One of Our Own
by ifonly13
Summary: Solving murders is hard enough. It's even harder when the victim is one of their own.
1. Chapter 1

_**One of Our Own**_

* * *

><p>The lobby of the theatre was crowded, the air conditioning blasting to counteract the mass of bodies shifting together as people milled about. Men wearing tuxedos stepped on the trains of the ballgowns that the women wore, a rainbow around the stark black and white of the suits. Servers in all black passed around trays of finger food and glasses of champagne.<p>

Somehow, the two of them had found a relatively empty corner of the lobby after taking twin glasses of the sparkling alcohol.

"Thank you," he said, his free hand resting on her hip, gently pulling her a little closer to him.

Kate picked up the fluttering tiered skirt of her gown and stepped so that one of her heeled feet were between his polished black shoes. She smiled, brushing a kiss over his jaw before taking a sip of the champagne. "Not doing it for you, bud." When he leaned down to try and capture her lips, Kate laughed and moved her head so he kissed only made contact with her cheek, his mouth only teasing at the corner of her lips. "Martha asked me to come. You're my date, not the other way around."

"You're a cruel, cruel woman, Katherine Beckett," Castle muttered, trailing his fingers up her side. "And I still can't believe Mother asked you, not me. I feel so betrayed."

The lights flickered. Ten minutes until the show started. The majority of the people moved toward the entrance to the house in a steady stream.

Kate looped her arm through Castle's to tug him in the same direction. "Yes, but you love me anyway."

He bumped her hip with his, pulling their tickets from the inside pocket of his tux. "Mhm. I'm glad you're here, even if it's for Mother and not me."

"Oh, I never said that you weren't part of the reason I'm here. It was just that Leonardo was busy tonight and you were next on my list of men." She blocked the half-hearted punch toward her shoulder, grinning as she teased him. Then the clutch she had tucked under her arm vibrated. She counted three vibrations, hoped it would stop at a text but it kept going. "Shoot." They stopped, moving to the side of the lobby as she dug the phone from the silver clutch. "Beckett."

"Kate…" Castle said, his fingers in the crook of her elbow, squeezing her arm. A quiet warning, a reminder.

She waved him off, walking down along the wall further so he wasn't pressuring her with his steady gaze. "Yeah, I'll be there. No, it's no problem. Really. Okay."

When she looked back at him, Castle didn't look happy. Not completely upset, but not as carefree as he was a minute ago. "You said you were taking the night off, Kate."

"I know, but… Castle, they need me."

The few feet between them seemed like miles as their eyes held contact. The stubbornness that both of them were sending out into the air could probably be felt by the couples shifting around them.

Then Castle stepped forward, walked right past Kate toward the exit. "Let's go then."

She jogged to catch up, her skirt lifted up over her ankles so the thin heels wouldn't catch on the organza. "You're coming with me?"

"Partners, Kate. Even when I wish we'd spend the evening watching my mother's new show followed by enough mind-blowing sex to last a week."

"Castle," she hissed, walking around him as he held the door for her. "Really?"

"A man has dreams. Let me hold onto the hope."

"That hope that is such an event is dwindling the more you mention it in public."

The town car they had taken from the loft to the theatre pulled up against the curb, the driver got out and opened the door for them. Kate slid in, felt Castle's thigh press against hers as he sat next to her. She gave the driver the address Ryan had rattled off on the phone and Castle mentally placed it as somewhere in Chelsea.

"We gonna stop and change?" he asked, his hand resting on her knee, curling around the airy tier at the joint.

She shook her head, scrolling through the messages on her phone. "No time. Just going to have to class up the scene in our formal wear."

The scene turned out to be a warehouse right on the water. Castle sent the driver away for the night, insisting that they'd grab a cab to their next destination, and turned back toward the gathering of cruisers, unmarked next to black-and-whites, their lights flashing off the metal beams and windows surrounding the street.

Kate was already at the yellow tape, arguing with the uniform standing guard. "Listen, I'm Detective Beckett, 12th Homicide."

"Sorry, miss, but I'll need to see your identification if you want to come on-scene." The uniform's voice wavered but even Castle could hear the steel under the fear in the face of Detective Beckett, not Kate.

"Officer Reyes, I don't think you understand," Kate started until Castle feathered his fingers over her bare shoulder. "Castle, not now," she said back at him. Then she was back at the uniform, taking a step closer so her high heels hit the toe of his standard uniform shoes. "I don't have my badge. I don't have my ID. But I need to get in to see the rest of my team."

The young man was just opening his mouth again when Esposito appeared behind him. "Reyes," he called from the door of the warehouse. "They're with me."

Kate barely resisted the urge to smirk at the uniform as he lifted the tape for her to duck under, Castle following her.

"Sorry to tear you two away from your party," he said as they walked toward the wide metal doors of the warehouse. "But this one needs all the brain power we can get our hands on."

"What's so different about this one?" Castle asked, snagging Kate's arm before she stepped in a puddle.

The interior of the warehouse was chaotic. Controlled chaos. Her eyes scanned over the boxes piled high against the walls of the building then settled on the one item that didn't belong. There in the center of the room was a claw-footed tub. A pool of water had splashed out onto the concrete floor, the liquid tinted pink even in the low lighting; crime scene techs hadn't set up the large portable lights yet.

Kate glanced at Ryan who was standing at the edge of the shallow puddle, then back at Esposito and Castle. With the skirt of her strapless black gown raised in one hand, Kate moved closer, close enough to see into the tub but aware of the water around the basin that the crime scene people would not want her stepping in.

Blonde hair floated on the surface of the water in the tub, light strands against the deep red liquid. Slender arms and legs bobbed, the rest of the body submerged. Kate could see that someone had managed to print one hand, the black ink staining the finger pads.

"Do we have an ID yet?" she asked, accepting the blue latex gloves a uniform offered her.

Ryan stepped over to her side. "Working on it."

"Dock worker found it when he snuck in here for a smoke break." Esposito had his notebook out, pointing at the tub with the tip of his ballpoint pen. "Just waiting for the M.E. to get here and clear crime scene to pump out the tub. Ryan and I can wait here if you two want to change, meet us at the Twelfth." He had been giving them both pointed looks at her gown and his tux, out of place at a crime scene.

Castle shrugged, linking his fingers with Kate's even as she tried to wave him off. "Sounds like a good plan." He ignored Kate's glare as he spoke, returning the gaze. She hated it when he took her control away at a crime scene.

"You know what? Fine." She reclaimed her hand, stepping back toward the door and running into a uniform as she did. "But you guys call me as soon as we get an ID on the victim, okay?"

The boys responded with "Of course" and "Yeah, sure" before she turned to leave. Castle was at her back, on his phone with a cab company to get a ride back to the loft.

When he hung up, pocketing the phone, Kate let him tuck her against his side. Castle leaned his head down so his lips brushed the shell of her ear. "Bad timing, huh?"

Kate turned her head away from his mouth. "Yeah."

"Kate," Castle murmured softly. She could still hear the strength under the warm velvet. "What's wrong?"

Her smile was unconvincing when she stepped away from his body, looking up at him. "Nothing."

He crowded her, wrapping a hand around her lower arm. Not pulling her close again but keeping her near him. "Something. Come on, Beckett. Share."

This time, instead of moving back, Kate let her head fall onto his pectorals. "Tired. Sucky timing. It's okay."

A yellow cab came around the corner of the warehouse behind the black medical examiner's van. Kate took a step back, standing on her own as Lanie hopped out of the passenger's seat of the vehicle.

"Thought you two had a big date," she said, leaning back into the van to pull out her bag. "Didn't think that meant with a dead body."

"Fate intervened," Castle said, holding up a finger to the cab driver, signaling that he should hold on a minute.

"How long will getting a prelim exam take?"

Lanie looked over her friend from her curled hair, pinned up off her neck in an attempt to combat the sticky heat, to the black stilettos. "Maybe half an hour."

"Call when you- "

"Beckett!"

Esposito was in the doorway of the warehouse waving his notebook. "Got an ID!"

Even in heels, Kate beat the other two back to the building. "Who is it?"

There was an unsettling hush in the warehouse, silence echoing around them after the click of her heels quieted. Ryan and Esposito were side-by-side and neither looked entirely comfortable. Kate felt Castle at her back, a solid presence.

"Karen Wheeler." Esposito paused, glanced at his partner who had gone pale even for his fair Irish skin. "Officer Karen Wheeler."

Castle felt Kate's fingers reach back for his. He captured them against his thigh, cool lines he could feel on his warm skin through the fabric of his pants. "One of us?" he asked though he knew the answer already.

The small connection of her hand against his leg was the only weakness Kate showed, the only crack in her professional exterior. Kate's voice was steady when she spoke. "Yes, Castle. She was one of us."

* * *

><p>She let Castle open the cab door. She let Castle hand her into the back seat. She let Castle hold her hand as they rode from Chelsea to SoHo.<p>

They didn't talk. Kate didn't trust her voice and Castle didn't know which words would work for the moment.

He did thank the driver as he paid; she got out and waited on the sidewalk for him to join her.

"Back early," remarked Eduardo when Castle and Kate walked into the lobby. The elderly doorman had his usual cup of tea and a beat-up copy of the latest Time magazine open on the desk. "Martha's play not good?"

It was Castle who smiled at the other man, his pinky finger hooked around Kate's. "Couldn't say. Body dropped."

"Unfortunate." Eduardo looked at Kate, tried to catch her eye. He glanced back at Castle who nodded a little. "My apologies, Detective."

For the first time since Esposito spoke back in the warehouse, Castle saw Kate smile. Try to smile, he clarified; he could see the difference between genuine and forced. The expression didn't reach her eyes.

"Thanks, Eduardo," she said quietly, going for the stairs rather than the already-waiting elevator. "Have a nice night."

Castle unlocked the door of the loft. His every nerve was trained on the woman moving from the living room to the study. He was worried, not just about Kate but about the entire team. He wasn't a cop, no matter how he pretended to be one of the members of the force, so he couldn't possibly comprehend the shock of losing another one of their siblings in every sense of the word. So he waited in the living room, giving her space.

He searched the deep pockets of his jacket for his phone. There were a few new e-mails, some from Black Pawn wondering where the next chapters of the book were. Others were spam that he deleted. Then there was a text from his mother.

_Where are you, Richard?_

Shoot. How would she even notice his absence at intermission? He typed out a reply explaining the situation, apologizing for ducking out of the performance early.

The shower was running. He walked into the bedroom, tossed the stiff jacket onto the bed and watching as the organza of Kate's dress fluttered. He stripped off the rest of the tux, stepping into the bathroom, steam curling around him. Kate poked her head out of the glass shower, hair dripping onto the tile floor.

"You coming in?"

She let him crowd her up against the wall of the shower, pushing onto her tiptoes to press her mouth to the underside of his jaw. "I'm okay."

He shifted, capturing her lips briefly. "No, you're not. But that's okay." Before Kate could protest, he moved back, picked up the shampoo bottle and handed it to her. "Because you will be once you do this."

They showered quickly, a delicate dance with passed body wash and washcloths.

Kate pulled on jeans, the plum scoopneck t-shirt in her hands as she stopped to study Castle across the room. He, too, was only half-dressed, buttoning his dark-wash jeans.

"What?" he asked without turning his head; he knew that she was watching him.

"You're distracting." She tugged the shirt into place, adjusting the bottom hem over her jeans.

Castle found a deep green v-neck t-shirt, foregoing a long-sleeved dress shirt in the hot weather. "Same goes," he muttered just loud enough for Kate to hear.

She slipped her arms around his waist once his head popped out of the neckline of the shirt, letting her fingers curl up over his shoulder blades. Her wet hair was on his chest, dampening the shirt. "Castle, this is going to be a hard one. The press will be insane. IAB will be stepping on our toes the entire time. Longer hours, less sleep, poor eating habits." She tilted her face up and saw that he was shaking his head slowly. "What?"

He leaned down, kissed the little crease between her brows. "I'm with you, Kate."

She grabbed a pair of boots from the closet after she stepped away, balancing on the edge of the mattress and zipping them up. "You may annoy the hell out of me forty percent of the time," she said, getting up and shaking her feet so that her jeans fell over the ankle boots. Castle was staring, blinking widely, and she knew it wasn't at her silhouette. "But the other sixty percent of the time, you're so good to me."

"Makes you want me, doesn't it?" he teased, following her back into the front hallway, taking the coat she handed him from the closet.

When he swung the lightweight jacket on, Kate had stepped closer so her thighs brushed his. She rubbed the zipper pull between her fingertips, looking up at him through her lashes. "You have no idea."

"Oh, that's not fair," he whined, locking the door behind them. "That is so not fair."

"I believe it was one of your profession who first stated that the rules of fair play do not apply in love and war," Kate called back.

Castle snagged the sleeve of her khaki jacket, turning her to face him. "Even less fair to use a writer against me."

She grinned, hit the elevator button with the heel of her hand. "And we're back to the quote. One big circle of logic."


	2. Chapter 2

_**One of Our Own**_

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><p>Traffic was tangled, even for close to midnight. The plays, one of which they should have been at, were just getting out. Tourists and native New Yorkers alike ignored crossing lights as often as the cab drivers pretended that red lights were more of a suggestion than an actual law.<p>

As she fought her way uptown, Kate worried the scratch on the steering wheel, the flap of leather rough between her fingers.

Castle finally gave in and put a hand over hers, stilling her fingers on the wheel. "You knew her." A statement. No inflection in his voice to imply that he was even considering that it was a matter of debate. He knew. But he wanted her confirmation.

"Yeah."

Her one-word answer was not exactly what he wanted from her. So he pushed, letting his hand fall off of hers as she turned a corner for a side street, hoping it was less crowded. "How?"

She blew through the possibilities that presented themselves in her mind. She could ignore him, wait until she had the entire team with her to explain, knowing that Ryan and Esposito would understand and have her back. Not that Castle didn't have her back. Or she could just tell him. Keeping secrets no longer appealed to her, not after last time, so she sighed. "Some cases. Before you. Wheeler was on the gang task force in the neighboring precinct. We worked together a few times, running busts. I was in Vice at the time, so we tended to target gangs that used prostitution as a method of gaining intel."

"She was a good cop?"

Kate nodded, smiling a little. "Yeah. She was." She took advantage of a yellow light, jerking the wheel so that she made the corner before the light changed over, narrowly avoiding a man too busy on his phone to pay attention to where he was walking. "I told you it was going to be different this time. This is part of it." She glanced over at him, testing his facial expression for hesitation. She found none, of course; Castle didn't hesitate when it came to her. "It's hard enough when another cop is murdered. Harder when you know them."

"You'll find them. The bastards that did this," he clarified when she blinked, eyes on the road still. "Because we're a solid team."

"You bet we are."

The Twelfth's lobby was deserted save for one. The desk sergeant was sleeping on his desk, a little puddle of drool collecting under his gaping mouth. He was old but sleeping on the job was never an excuse. Kate gave him a sharp kick to his shin, shouted, "Wake up, Peters!"

He sputtered as he raised his head, eyes still droopy with exhaustion but alert as they darted around the entranceway that he was supposed to have been guarding. "Just… Just recharging."

"Grab some coffee. A candy bar. But don't sleep, for goodness sakes, Peters," Kate muttered, jabbing the elevator call button with her pointer finger.

Castle gave the man a sympathetic look before Kate could check back on him. They got onto the elevator after it creaked to a halt on the ground floor and he stood a little closer to Kate than he normally did. She may not need the security of feeling his warmth against the back of her arm but he did.

The Homicide floor was silent. Castle wasn't sure he had ever seen it so empty or quiet or dark. There was always motion here, whether it was pouring over financial statements that made his eyes go in opposite directions or tossing a baseball around to one another. All of that was absent.

"Come on, Castle," she said, tucking her hand into the pocket of his jacket as she stepped off. "We can start up the murder board before the boys get back from the scene."

As he broke off to grab them coffee from the break room, Kate searched the back hallways of the division for a blank whiteboard. Some had cases up from other teams in Homicide. Others were covered with doodles that someone had done in permanent marker and were unable to be put to use; Kate still wasn't sure why they were saving those other than for amusement value. As she shifted the rolling boards, she glimpsed her contribution to the joke board and smiled. So far, no one knew she had added the single word to the clusters of hangman games, poorly drawn caricatures of various officers. Her little mystery that she was still waiting for someone to find and solve.

Every board was taken. She had thought the week had been quiet but apparently O'Connor's team had been picking up cases left and right. Kate was left with the blank reverse side of the joke board. She disentangled the board from the others, kicked up the lock on the wheels, and dragged it out to the precinct floor.

Castle was sitting on the edge of her desk, their two mugs side-by-side, and his phone in his hands. "Mother was wondering if we wanted to go to tomorrow night's performance. Make up for missing the opening." He raised his eyes to meet hers, a brow arched.

"You know how things are with a case," Kate sighed, using her foot to lock the board's wheels so it would slide around. "Can't make definite plans."

"I'll tell her we'll go when we close this." He was already typing furiously, fingers pressing the touch screen keyboard at a speed that Kate hadn't mastered yet. "It can be a celebration. Our reward for a job well done."

Kate took a sip of the coffee he had put in her mug, a gift from their first date. Their first real date, she told herself. They'd had plenty of dates by the definition before the typical first one. Flowers, dinner, goodnight kiss. Everything and the kitchen sink. The mug was a deep charcoal grey, navy blue stripes running horizontally. Simple, but the similarity of the colors sometimes made her eyes twitch. Castle had called it her illusion cup; it kept your eyes moving, never letting them settle. He had also let slip that he painted it at a little clay workshop, paid to have it kiln-fired and sealed before gifting her with it.

What she didn't know was that he had written something under all the paint. His secret, one that made him smile every time she used the mug.

"Okay, so, where do we start?" he asked, putting his phone on her desk and pushing up onto his feet.

Kate moved around him to open one of the drawers of her desk, pushing aside his electronic version of Scrabble and a stuffed animal in the form of a dog until her fingers grasped the whiteboard marker along the edge of the drawer. "With Wheeler."

She held onto the side of the whiteboard as she wrote Wheeler's name in her neat capitals at the center of the board. "The boys will get information from her family since that's probably where they went after finishing up at the crime scene. But we can write down the stuff from her file."

Without asking, Castle sat in her chair, turned the computer on with a flick of his wrist. Kate watched, an arm resting on the arm of the whiteboard, as the login screen popped up. Castle didn't know her password.

Except he did. He typed in the series of numbers without wavering. "How'd you…?"

"Please, Detective," Castle said, slightly exasperated. "I've known you how long exactly? I know your password."

"Good thing I'm changing it as soon as you're out of the room," she replied, waving the marker at him. "Can't have you cleaning up your official file."

He pulled up the department website, the keys clicking loudly as he typed in Wheeler's name, and hit search. As the computer thought, he smirked over at Kate. "Me? Never."

Kate had been right. Officer Karen Wheeler had been a good cop. Commendations for service above and beyond the call of duty, positive recommendations, glowing reviews, a high clearance rate. Castle noted that the woman had graduated from the Academy around the same time as Kate would have, wondered if the two had been in the same class without even knowing it. She had started in the gang task force as Kate had mentioned but a few years back, she had transferred to organized crime, working on cutting down the skyrocketing white collar crime rate.

Kate read over Castle's shoulder, digesting pieces of information before writing the pertinent snippets up on the whiteboard. Even from the distance, Castle could smell the marker as it squeaked across the surface. Then she'd be back, scanning information, returning to the board to write. Repeat.

When the elevator bell rang an hour later, Kate had reclaimed her chair, Castle had moved to his, and they were definitely not out of breath from Castle's insistence on a thorough investigation of her mouth.

"Well that was the definition of unfun," Ryan muttered, using the sleeve of his jacket to wipe at the thin sheen of sweat off his forehead.

"Which isn't a word," added Castle, receiving a quick glare in return.

Esposito shook his head, sitting down heavily in his desk chair before using his heels to drag himself over to Kate's desk. "Here," he said, pushing his notebook toward her. "Talked to her parents. That's what they had for us."

Kate idly wondered why Esposito had taken the notes; his handwriting was illegible. She raised a brow at the other detective as she handed the notebook back. "Just summarize, Espo."

"She didn't mention any trouble to her folks. Nothing out of the ordinary since maybe seven months ago." Ryan leaned his hip against Kate's desk, one hand balancing him using his fingertips.

"What happened seven months ago?" asked Castle, looking between the other men.

Esposito had his head back against the chair, speaking to the ceiling. As if that would help cool the temperature down. "She started seeing a therapist. She was involved in a shooting, left her with some…"

Kate had seriously thought that they were past the avoidance of certain topics around her. That's why she glared at Esposito, full force, offering him no protection. "PTSD. It happens." Still, she felt Castle's hand give her thigh a brief squeeze before he moved it back to his own lap.

She still went to see Dr. Burke. Post-traumatic stress disorder was not one of those things that was entirely overcome, especially in her case. She still faced the things that set off the disease in her everyday life. Even now, things startled her if she wasn't paying attention. Just last week, Kate had nearly had a panic attack when the sunlight slanted off of Castle's watch onto the wall next to her. Mostly their continued meetings and the topics of conversation were to help her keep her balance; things like her relationship with Castle, the still-rocky friendship with Alexis, the subject of her mother's case as she continued to work on truly letting that leave her mind. But compared to a year and a half ago, she was good. Better.

"Yeah. But that was the only thing that really changed in her life."

Changes a little more than a few trips to a softly lit room with some of the most comfortable chairs Kate had ever sat in. But she didn't need to rehash that argument with her team. Wheeler was more important right now. "Okay, so trips to a therapist. When the rest of the world wakes up, let's get her doctor's name, drop by and see if they're willing to bend confidentiality. See if we can get a bit more about the shooting from them."

Kate was making notes on a blank legal pad as she spoke, her pen scrawling over the yellow paper in smooth lines.

"Did her family know if there was anyone giving her trouble?" Castle asked.

Ryan shook his head and shrugged simultaneously. "Nothing."

"So let's dig into her past cases," Kate decided. "See how far we can get before IAB shows up."

The boys broke away from her desk, Ryan dragging Esposito back by the rolling chair. Kate took a sip of her coffee before opening up the part of Wheeler's file that listed every one of the cases she had worked on. She quickly scrolled down the list then back up.

"Lots of cases," he commented, looking over her arm. "This is going to take some time, especially without anything to narrow it down."

"We do have something." Kate glanced over at him with a small smile. "The only person who could have done this is someone who was recently paroled."

"Unless they hired someone," Castle pondered.

Kate shook her head. "No, this was personal. Look at how she was killed. A hired killer would have just shot her or knifed her. This was set up on purpose. It means something."

"But what?"

The phone rang when she opened her mouth to respond. After a brief conversation with a voice that sounded like Lanie's, Kate hung up. She hooked her fingers into the back of her jacket. "Come on, Castle. Lanie has prelim results for us."

* * *

><p>"She was drowned."<p>

Lanie held a metal clipboard against her hip, balanced even as she stripped off the blue gloves and basketball shot them into the trash. She hadn't commented on their change of clothing, getting right to the point. "All the classic indicators are present."

"Not strangled before being drowned?" Kate asked. She was carefully avoiding the white sheet on the autopsy table, her hands wrapped around her worn leather folder.

"Nope. Definitely drowned." Lanie moved over to her desk, found the file, and handed it over. "Water in her lungs means she wasn't dead before she was put in the water."

"How was she kept in the tub?"

The women turned to look at Castle. He shrugged, glancing down at the body, then back to Kate. "Just saying. Anyone would struggle to get out if they were drowning. The perp had to have held her down or secured her or something, right?"

"You're right." Kate was flipping through the file that included a brief crime scene description. She passed the folder to Castle, open to the right page of paper. "He handcuffed her to a loop on the bottom of the tub. She had nowhere to go."

"Can you imagine…" muttered Castle, looking through the file. "Being trapped, knowing you're going to die, but unable to stop it?"

Kate took the folder back from him, handed it over to Lanie. Avoiding his gaze. "So no drugs in her system?"

"Nothing that showed up on the standard tests. But I'll have more once I do the official autopsy."

"Time range?"

Lanie shrugged, going to the side of the room to take down clean gloves from a box on the wall. "Give me a few hours."

Kate thanked the medical examiner as she left. She had her hands shoved in her pockets as she headed back to the lobby of the building. A visible sign that she was already stressed. So Castle took a chance and ran his fingers up the small of her back.

"Hey." She didn't stop walking so he snagged the hem of the jacket, halting her just outside the double doors to the building. The moon was still out, barely visible through the haze that hung over the city. Kate sighed heavily, turning to face him, saying 'What?' without speaking. "I know you said this case was going to be hard but you can't block me out of what's going on in your head."

"I know…" she said, letting her head fall back against the grey brick exterior of the building, her eyes closed in the darkness. "I know, Castle. Sorry."

He linked his fingers with hers, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Just know that I'm here."

"Yeah," Kate said, opening her eyes to brush her fingertips over his jaw. Then she looped her arm around his neck, burying her nose into the crook of his shoulder. "You're so good to me."

"You're repeating yourself," he muttered.

"Mmm… shush you." After a minute letting herself gather her thoughts as he held her loosely against him despite the pressing heat, Kate gave his shoulder a little shove. "Okay, back to the case."

They drove back to the precinct with the windows down. The wind played with her hair as Castle rubbed at her knee. Traffic had let up as they approached two in the morning, but cabs still fought her for lanes in traffic.

"What's the plan?" he asked, moving his hand to the center console when she shifted to turn a corner. "For the rest of the day?"

"Talk to her therapist about the shooting. I'll have the boys head over to her precinct to see if co-workers knew anything was off. Other than that, hope that something pans out."

"And until people wake up enough for us to go talk to them?"

Kate smiled as she parked in the garage near the precinct. "I've got a backlog of paperwork you can always help me on." He scrunched up his face and Kate couldn't hold in the short laugh, pocketing the keys and heading toward the elevator. "But after that, I'll reward you with breakfast."

She didn't see his fist pump behind her but she knew he did the move so well-loved by those of the Jersey Shore.

"Have I told you, Kate, how much I love you?" he said, jumping into the elevator before the doors closed. "Because I do. I really do."

What would have terrified her a year ago now made her grin and still had little wings fluttering around in her chest. "You've mentioned that, yes." She tapped his shin with the toe of her boot. "And you know, if you love me, you'll help me with paperwork."

His face fell. "Love you less now. That's just cruel, Kate."

Kate reversed the roles from earlier in the morning and gave him a push against the wall of the elevator car. With her heels, she was nearly eye level with him as she stepped between his feet. "Then I guess you won't get breakfast."

"Using food as leverage isn't right."

The elevator bell pinged and Kate stepped away from him before the doors opened. "But if it gets the job done, I'm not above withholding nourishment."

They sat, her in the rolling chair, he in the old brown chair he had claimed years ago, and Kate handed him a pile of files. "Here's your half, partner. Finish that and I'll get you pancakes at that diner down the street."

He was muttering as she got up with their mugs, the coffee gone cold in them. She caught something that sounded like "not even pancakes can make paperwork interesting" as Kate passed him to go to the break room. But as she poured out the cold coffee, replacing it with warm liquid, she could see that he had opened up one of the files, found a pen, and was filling out one of the forms.

Kate had to brace her hands on the edge of the counter when it happened. This was one of those moments when she realized just how in love with that man she had fallen. And watching him do the one thing that he truly abhorred caused the emotion to wash over her again. "Come on, Kate. Keep it together."

So she picked up the mugs of coffee and went back to her desk, setting his cup in front of him. "Eye on the goal, Castle."

"Oh, Beckett," he said, not looking up from the form as his slopping letters filled in the boxes, "you have no idea how focused on the goal I am."


	3. Chapter 3

_**One of Our Own**_

* * *

><p>The promise of breakfast had propelled him to finish the pile of paperwork in record time. He beat Kate, a first in their partnership, and he didn't win quietly. There had been a miniature victory dance as he went to high-five Ryan and Esposito, interrupted by Kate threatening to cancel breakfast if he didn't get in the elevator in three seconds. He appeared at her side instantly, still grinning.<p>

They had walked to the diner, two blocks over, instead of taking the car. He had managed to not let his hand inch over to hers during the short walk though Kate could sense that he wanted the contact. She let his hand brush hers when he held the door to the diner open, let his fingers play with the fabric of her jeans as they shared a pile of pancakes.

The little things.

Kate negotiated traffic in rush hour with two steady hands on the steering wheel as Castle played with his phone. She wasn't sure what he was doing but it had him gritting his teeth and muttering out curses just as quickly as he would cheer. Fairly certain it was one of the silly game apps that he was so fond of, Kate was happy to let him be.

The office for Wheeler's therapist was located in a small building, hiding amongst the high rises of Midtown. A security guard at the front desk checked Kate's ID before letting them move around the desk into the elevator bay. As they waited with a woman in a suit and sneakers, her heels poking out of her oversized leather bag, and a pair of men arguing over a pile of papers that they kept passing back and forth, Castle stepped closer to Kate to talk.

"Do we know anything about her shooting?"

Kate handed him her little reporter-bound notebook; she knew most of the details that she had looked up that morning before breakfast. "Seven months ago, there was an investigation into some embezzlement scandal at a financial firm. Wheeler was working on the case, not lead, but definitely one of the leaders. I guess they finally nailed the guy down in his office, a Christopher Daniels, caught red-handed through some fancy computer software that tracked his every entered key. Wheeler and a small team was waiting, watching his computer screen until they had the evidence they needed.

"They stormed Daniels's office. He drew a gun on Wheeler. When he pulled the trigger, so did Wheeler's partner." They got into the elevator with the other three 9-to5'ers. Castle reached around the woman with a flash of what Kate called his bestseller smile, all charm and charisma, and pressed the button for five. Kate leaned a shoulder into the corner of the elevator car, waiting for him to take the few steps back to her.

"Wheeler survived. Her partner?" he asked, head bent so they weren't talking about a whisper.

Kate nodded. "Back on the job after some therapy of his own."

He sighed out a breath of relief. His shoulder brushed her as he moved out of the way when the two men got off, still fighting over the details enclosed in the papers. "Are they still partners?"

"He retired. That's when she moved into white collar crime."

They got off, leaving just the woman standing in her own corner, thumbing through her messages on her smartphone. The floor branched off in two directions, offices at either end with more dotting the way to those anchor offices.

"Number 503," Kate muttered, obviously gauging her best guess at the direction.

Castle made the decision and headed left.

"No. Right," she said, moving in her direction.

Both of them stopped, a few steps away from the other, the elevator between. Neither seemed ready to give in to the other's decision.

"Want to bet, Detective?" he asked, waggling an eyebrow in a way that would be creepy on anyone but Castle.

"Bet what?"

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging his shoulders. "Clothing, of course. I'm right, I get to undress you first tonight. You win, vice versa. Deal?"

Kate narrowed her eyes across the feet between them. "Deal. Keep the jacket unbuttoned on the ride back to the loft. It'll be easier that way."

"Awfully confident."

"Only when I know I'm right." She turned, eyes following the numbers outside of the offices. 500, 501, 502. Her footsteps hesitated and she forced herself to continue, to not give him a hint of doubt on her part. But she reached the end of the hallway and there wasn't another set of glass doors.

Down the hall, she heard a quiet chuckle and Kate rolled her eyes. The man was insufferable when he won.

* * *

><p>There must be some handbook for psychiatrists to consult when setting up their offices. The little waiting area was all clean lines and soft blues. A few chairs lined the walls, a pile of magazines on a side table. A young man was sitting behind a wide desk, a phone cradled in the crook of his neck as he typed into the computer. He looked up when they walked in, gestured with a finger to hold on for a second, and told the person on the other end of the phone that they were all set for next Thursday at two.<p>

"How can I help you?" he asked, hanging up and smiling politely up at Kate and Castle.

She pulled her badge from her pocket, palmed it onto the desk for the man to see. "Hoping to get a word with Doctor Erin Houston."

The man got up, glanced back at them before knocking on the door off of the waiting room. "She's not in trouble, is she?" Only when Kate shook her head did he knock, ducking his head inside to talk to the woman. He withdrew his head, opening the door further. "Go on in."

More quiet blue accented with cream and chocolate brown throw pillows on a couch. But unlike Burke's office, this one was bright. The shades were up letting in the sunrise as a woman worked at a desk tucked into the corner of the room, as unobtrusive as possible.

"Dr. Houston, I'm Detective Beckett and this is Richard Castle."

The woman got up, brushing her graying brown hair behind her shoulders. She was in a pale mint green suit, the skirt of which she smoothed before holding a hand out. "Erin Houston. Can I ask what this visit is about?" she asked, gesturing toward the couch for them to sit.

Kate decided that if there wasn't a how-to-set-up-your-office manual, there was definitely a class on how to speak as a psychiatrist. Houston was soft-spoken, a physical embodiment of her office space, smiling quietly even as she let her eyes flick between Kate and Castle for a hint of why they were there.

"Dr. Houston, one of your patients was found dead this morning."

Both of her hands flew to cover her mouth, barely stifling the gasp. "Oh God. Who?"

"Karen Wheeler. She was an officer out of the Fourth. Came to you after a shooting."

The woman was nodding, slowly at first then with more vigor. "Yes, she was one of mine. Oh, you just think that once you've been so much, the universe would just leave you alone."

Kate leaned her elbows on her thighs, the notebook closed in her hand. "We were hoping that you might share some of the things you and she talked about in regards to the shooting. Just to see if she mentioned something that wouldn't have been put in the official report."

Houston glanced between the two people on the couch across from her armchair as if gauging their honesty. Then she sighed. "Yes, of course." She got up, went over to her desk and slid some files across the surface, looking at the names on the tabs. With Wheeler's in hand, Houston sat again, opening it. "You'll understand if I don't hand over the file, Detective. While patient confidentiality doesn't apply when a patient dies, I'd like to keep some of the things she said, things that don't apply to her shooting on the force, private."

She waited for Kate's single nod before continuing. The file sat on her leg, the front flap dangling into the air. "Karen was shaken for a long time. Not just physically, but mentally. It took a long time for her to open up to sharing anything. For the first few sessions, we sat here, watching one another. She was like a cornered animal, always shaking with her eyes darting everywhere." Houston ran a finger over the file, scanning her own notes. "But eventually she was willing to share. She felt weak for letting the man have the opportunity to pull a gun on her, guilty for making her partner shoot someone. Do you understand?" she asked, looking up at Kate.

Kate didn't need to look at Castle to know he was watching her. "I do."

"Most of her opening up had to do with testifying against the man. It helped her, getting to see that event." She shook her head a little. "I'm sorry, Detective, but I don't know what type of help this will be to finding her killer."

"Just looking into things that might have changed in her life. Her parents mentioned the shooting."

Castle spoke for the first time, shifting so he was sitting on the edge of the couch. His knee knocked Kate's. "Do you know anything else that was going on that would have triggered someone to target her?"

"No one comes to mind. We didn't just talk about cases. Most of it was personal, just life. I was an impartial sounding board for her. I want to say 'friend,' but I don't want to be putting words into her mouth," Houston said with a sad smile.

After trading business cards and apologies about not helping more and for the loss of the woman's life, Kate and Castle headed back to the precinct.

* * *

><p>Ryan was writing on the murder board when they stepped off the elevator. He had rolled up the sleeves of his pale pink shirt, still swiping at his brow.<p>

"Find anything at the Fourth?" she asked, shedding her jacket and sitting in the desk chair with a huff.

The sun was starting to heat the city that was already wilting from the humidity that had been settled over the island and decided to stay. The combination of the two had most of the population either fleeing for the Hamptons or begging off work and staying in their air conditioning. Luckily, the precinct's air conditioning had been fixed after last summer so Kate didn't feel like fainting just walking into the lobby.

"Not a thing," he said, tossing the marker into the well at the bottom of the board. "The people over at the Fourth had nothing but good things to say about Wheeler but they didn't say there was a case she was working on that would have been giving her more issues than usual."

Esposito swiveled in his chair, rocking back on the hinge. "The therapist have anything for you?"

Castle leaned his hip against the edge of her desk, shaking his head. "Nothing that would help with this."

"Did they say anything about the cases she was working on?" Kate asked, studying the notes Ryan had added to her basic outline from the morning. No new information. Still at a standstill. The lack of movement would annoy her if she didn't constantly remind herself that the case was less than half a day old.

"She was doing something with art forgeries but nothing dangerous, according to her captain." Ryan snuck his hand over Kate's desk and snagged a few of the Skittles from her bowl.

"Okay." Kate moved the bowl of candy to the corner so that they could take the colorful pieces without reaching in front of her. "Why don't we see what her past cases looked like. See if many there were people she put in prison that might be out on parole and looking for revenge. Maybe something will pop."

They divided it up. Ryan and Esposito took her cases from before she transferred out of the gang task force while Kate and Castle started pulling the ones since she moved into the Fourth and organized crime.

Around them, the precinct slowly came to life as they drudged through the cases. No one made a comment to the team, their noses buried into computer screens, making notes on pads of paper that might be relevant. The silence, instead of being uncomfortable and awkward, was a tribute to their fallen comrade.

They broke for lunch, Castle insisting that he pay for Remy's and dragging the three detectives out the door behind him. Then it was back to more of the same.

For once, not a single person complained about the amount of paperwork, the endless scrolling for dates of release from prison, or for the heinousness of the crime.

When Castle saw Kate's eyes close, her head duck down, then snap back open and up, he placed a hand on her elbow. "Let's go home." Before she could open her mouth to protest, he gave her arm a squeeze, a warning and a comfort wrapped up in one motion. "It'll be here after you get a few hours of sleep. You've been going for two days without more than five minutes of rest."

She gave in easily and he was fairly certain that most of that was because of the lack of sleep and the overwhelming need to do this for her fellow officer. She told Ryan and Esposito to call it a night as well before Castle steered her into the elevator with a hand at the small of her back.

"You drive."

He turned and saw the keys to the car held out in front of him. "Wha-?"

She jingled them, switching places with him behind the car to go sit in the passenger's side. "I'll fall asleep at the wheel and we'll never get home."

Castle saw that she might have a point. As he adjusted the mirrors and the seat, Kate reclined the back of her seat a little, curling her feet up under her legs. The last thing she murmured before giving into sleep was "Wake me up when we get home."


	4. Chapter 4

_**One of Our Own**_

* * *

><p>He did get to undress her first, though not in the manner he had hoped.<p>

After shaking her awake in the garage of the building, Castle had to loop an arm around her waist, tugging her against his side on the walk to the elevator. Even though she was walking, he was fairly certain that she still wasn't entirely with the real world. If he was being honest, he wasn't far away from joining her.

He managed to get her into the bedroom, guiding her so that she flopped onto the bed and not the floor. It was only when he unbuttoned her jeans that she spoke.

"Don't go getting handsy," Kate muttered. "I'm too tired."

As he wiggled the denim off her legs, he pressed a kiss to her knee. "I think I can control myself."

Her hum held a tone that told him she didn't believe a word he said. She sat up, letting him take her shirt off, eyes closed the entire time. When he turned around from tossing the clothes into the corner, Kate was already stretched out across the entire bed having kicked the comforter down to the bottom of the mattress. She had flipped onto her stomach, her hair spayed out across the navy blue pillowcase.

Castle picked up the gown and tuxedo from where they were tangled up with the comforter, draping the fabric over the door of the closet. The two outfits were already ridiculously wrinkled so spending the night not hung up wouldn't hurt. He tossed his own jeans and shirt into the corner with hers, going to brush his teeth before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Kate, share," he said, giving her leg a nudge.

She moved her leg, slowly, so that it was in line with the rest of her body. Half of her face was hiding either under her hair or buried into the pillow she was clutching to her. He couldn't resist the urge to tickle her bare back, knowing she was well and truly asleep when she didn't swat at him.

* * *

><p>Her phone was ringing from somewhere. It was faint, though she wasn't sure if that was because it was far away or just due to the fact that most of her head was smashed in her pillow. Maybe both.<p>

"Castle, get my phone," Kate mumbled, turning so her back was to the other body in the bed. She gave him a kick on the calf as she snuggled into the mattress.

He kicked her in return, trailing his toes up to the indent at the back of her knee and grinning into the dark at the shiver he felt race through her. "No."

"Please?" she whined.

The phone stopped ringing. Then started up again. A persistent caller.

"I carried you to bed and undressed you last night. You can answer your own phone," Castle said, mirroring her movement of turning away from her.

Kate tossed the pillow at his head as she swung her legs out of the bed. The floor was cold and her toes curled under her feet as she blinked into the dark. "Where'd you put my pants?"

He muttered something about the corner near the closet and Kate managed to track down the jeans from yesterday.

Five missed calls from an unknown number. The same number that was calling at the moment.

"Beckett," she answered, trying not to sound like she had just rolled out of bed.

The voice on the other end didn't sound familiar. "Detective Kate Beckett, this is Captain Samuel Turner from the Twenty-Seventh Precinct."

Kate glanced back at the bed where Castle was watching her pace the length of the bedroom. "How can I help you, Captain?" she asked, sitting next to Castle's hip and twining her fingers through his.

"I need you to come by my station. We have a situation that you're involved in." The man paused as if waiting for her protest. It didn't come. "This morning. Is that possible, Detective?"

She didn't feel like there was much of a choice being given to her. The brass of the NYPD must take a course in politics. "Yes, sir. I'll be by in an hour. Does that work for you?"

"I'll see you then." The man hung up.

"What's going on?" Castle asked, propping his head up on his elbow. His free hand smoothed over her knuckles, watching as her fingers curled against the sheets.

She shrugged. "No idea. Said something that involved me is going on at the Two-Seven." Kate got up, carding her hand through her hair, pulling when they caught on tangles. "I'll drop you off at the Twelfth on my way uptown."

"No, I'm with you." Castle got out of bed, tugging her against his chest and tipping her face up to his with a finger under her chin.

"Then let's go," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Before she could pull away, Castle ran his thumb over her lower lip. "Clothing might be a good first step."

She smirked back at him as she pulled light grey pants from one of the drawers. "What, Castle? Don't feel like sharing me with the boys?"

He gave a little growl on his way into the bathroom. ""You're mine, Kate. I don't share."

"I'm not yours, bud," she called, buttoning the pants. The air was already muggy so Kate picked out a white button-up, rolling the sleeves up to her elbows. Barefoot, she went out to the kitchen to switch on the coffee machine before passing Castle on her way back to the bathroom.

As she walked by, Castle snagged her wrist, swinging her around so she bumped into his chest. "I know, Miss Independent." He leaned down, giving her a minty kiss. "But I still don't share."

Kate tickled his bare side. "Me neither. Make me breakfast."

"Bossy pants," he said, pulling his shirt on.

When she came back out of the bedroom, teeth brushed and holding a pair of boots in one hand, he had a mug of coffee waiting for her on the counter. She slid onto one of the stools, dropping the boots on the ground. "This isn't breakfast, Castle," Kate said around a sip of the liquid.

He had a frying pan in one hand, a spatula in the other as he turned around and narrowed his eyes at her. "Patience, grasshopper," he said, giving her a quick kiss before going back to scrambling eggs. "Mmm… You taste like coffee."

"Wonder why that would be?" Kate mused, taking another sip.

He shrugged. "Perhaps because your blood has been permanently replaced by the stuff?"

"You could be a detective," Kate responded with a grin.

"So you really have no idea what this meeting is about?" he called over his shoulder.

"Why would I lie to you about that?" She kicked the side of the counter with her toe. "I know he's Narcotics."

Castle pushed a plate of scrambled eggs, a triangle of toast, and a few slices of bacon. "We haven't worked with Narcotics lately. Why would he be calling you?"

Her glare told him that his rhetorical questions weren't necessary as she bit into the toast. "We just need to go hear what he has to say then we can get back to figuring out Wheeler's case."

He boosted up onto the stool next to her, pulling his own plate of food over to fork up eggs. "Yeah, what's our next step with that one?"

"Keep going over her past cases, see if people are out on parole or taking out hit from inside prison."

"Wading through old files is so boring," he muttered.

Kate shook her head, waving the slice of bacon at him. "Not when it's another officer's death that we're investigating. Suck it up."

"I didn't mean it like that," he said around a mouthful of toast. "Whatever it takes."

"I know."

She glanced at the clock, judging the time they had left to eat breakfast like a normal couple. Not much more than five minutes to get out the door. With the last bite of her toast balanced between her teeth, Kate reached down to pick up one boot to pull it on.

"You're a good cook, you know," she said, grabbing the other shoe. "I should let you cook more often. Keep you in the kitchen like a good housewife."

He gathered up their plates, placed them in the sink to clean later. "You're missing a key part of that idea, Kate." When she raised a brow, he kissed the little wrinkle that appeared between her eyes. "The pregnant part."

"Science is pretty advanced these days. I'm sure we could figure something out for you." Kate tweaked his ear as she pushed past him. "Come on, my barefoot-and-pregnant partner. Let's see what Narcotics wants with me."

* * *

><p>The Twenty-Seventh Precinct was larger than the Twelfth; covering most of the Upper East Side required more officers. Kate used her badge to skip the metal detectors in the lobby, waiting for Castle to clear through before taking the elevator up to the sixth floor.<p>

"Our place smells better," he remarked.

She gave him a little nudge with her hip as she scanned the area. "Shush. We're trying to make friends, not enemies." As a uniform passed her, Kate asked where their captain was. She got a quick point towards a corner office before the man rushed off in the other direction.

"Can I help it if we manage to keep the Twelfth smelling nicer while still getting work done?" Castle asked as they dodged people on their way over to the office with the closed door.

Kate knocked on the door of the office, poking Castle in the shoulder. "Behave. It's their turf right now, not ours."

When a voice, the same one from the phone an hour earlier, told them to come in. The office was far too neat for someone who ran a division. Kate suspected that if she ran a finger along the top of the single filing cabinet in the corner that it would be free of dust. The only file visible was on his desk, closed so she couldn't see to what it pertained.

But what she really focused on was the man standing behind the huge dark-stained desk. He wasn't tall but the frizzy grey hair was attempting to make up some of the lost height as it stuck up into the air. His dark blue suit was unbuttoned and Kate was not sure how he could stand the pressing heat in the long sleeves and jacket.

"Detective Beckett, I'm Captain Turner," he said, holding a hand out over the desk. His eyes weren't on Kate though, but on Castle.

"Captain Turner, this is my partner, Richard Castle."

Turner sat behind the desk, linking his fingers on the single file. "He can wait outside. This just has to do with you, Detective."

Kate saw Castle step forward to protest but she gave him a quick kick to his ankle. "I'll be outside. Maybe I'll find a new muse," he added, trying to inject some humor into his eyes and failing. His fingers brushed hers as he turned to leave.

The chair in front of Turner's desk was uncomfortable and Kate tried to subtly shift. No use; the hard wood dug into the angle of her tailbone. All she could do was hope this wasn't going to last too long. "What is this about, Captain?"

He pushed the file across the desk. "One of my detectives, an Alyssa Enright, was found dead outside the precinct this morning."

The name didn't sound familiar nor did the photo of the pretty woman inside the jacket of the file. "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't know Detective Enright."

"You did." Turner sat back, balancing his ankle on his knee, careful to preserve the crease of his pants. "Eleven years ago, you two worked a case with another two officers." This time, he pulled another stack of files from a drawer in his desk, placing them in between them. "Your name popped when we ran Enright through the system, connecting us back to this original case. You're investigating the murder of an Officer Wheeler right now, correct?"

Kate pulled the top file off the pile, flipping it open. "Yes. I'm sorry, but you think that their deaths are connected?" She was scan-reading the file, looking for details that would remind her of the case.

"Not sure right now but the connection is one that we can't ignore. I just wanted to let you know about the possibility that the case might come up again." Turner got up, reaching for the file that Kate was still holding. "I think we can work together with this, Detective Beckett. I'll be calling your captain later today to talk about any updates we have on our end."

She handed over the manila file slowly, still processing both the murder and the abruptness of this man. "Okay. Yeah, uh, you know where to find me."

Castle was leaning against the wall outside the office. "What was that?" he asked, jogging to catch up to her as she walked toward the elevator. She didn't slow down until the doors closed behind them. "Kate, what's going on?"

Kate let her head hit the back of the elevator car on a heavy sigh. "Things just got a whole lot more complicated with Wheeler's case."


	5. Chapter 5

_**One of Our Own**_

* * *

><p>The ride back to the Twelfth was silent. He knew from the way she was gripping the steering wheel that pushing her for more details was the wrong step to take at the moment. She'd have to put the information up on the board, especially if it pertained to Wheeler's murder, and he'd have time to figure it out then. But for now, he'd let her have the quiet.<p>

She walked in front of him to the elevator, stood further from him in the car than usual, and headed straight to Gates's office instead of stopping at the break room. He didn't follow, deciding to do something else that would help her center: get coffee.

"What's up with Beckett?"

Ryan walked in, setting his coffee mug on the counter and leaning back against the scarred surface. He watched out the window, looking at the sliver of the captain's office that was visible from the break room. "She pretty much ran right past Espo and me. Didn't look too happy. Not a good night for you two?" he asked with a wink.

Castle pulled the pot of coffee off of the hot plate, poured the liquid into the three cups lined up in a neat row. "She should be the one to tell you about it."

"Seriously, Castle." The teasing was gone as Ryan turned, arms crossing over his chest. "What's going on?"

Gathering up his and Kate's mugs, Castle only shook his head. "Let her tell you. I honestly have no idea."

She was at the board when they rounded the corner from the break room. The blue Expo marker was in her hand, uncapped and swinging dangerously close to her light grey pants, threatening to draw a line across the pale fabric. Another name was up on the board, a line drawn between the two halves now.

"Who's Detective Enright?" Ryan asked, sipping from his coffee and nodding toward the board.

Kate stepped back, pulling her hand through her hair. Normally the movement of the caramel brown over the white button down would have Castle tampering back the urge to drag her off to the observation room or a supply closet or back to the loft for a lunch break that would involve him nibbling on that little spot on her neck that drove her crazy. Today, it worried him. She was tense, every nerve radiating the fact that she was not comfortable.

"Narcotics out of the Two-Seven," she answered, taking the offered mug from Castle with a tight smile. "She was found dead this morning outside of their house. Medical examiner hasn't gotten back with a cause-of-death yet so we're waiting on that. So far it looks like-"

"Wait."

Ryan's interruption had Kate raising a bow. "What?"

"You said the Two-Seven?" Kate nodded once, eyes shifting to Castle then back to the other detective. "That's Manhattan North. We don't cover them for homicides. Why do we have Enright?"

"Where's Epsosito?" Kate asked, shaking her head as she went to sit at her desk with a huff. "Better do this all at once."

Ryan turned, going off to get Esposito from Records where he had been filing old paperwork. Castle sat next to Kate, reaching a hand out over the surface of her desk to brush her bicep. "What's going on, Kate?"

In a rare show of 'Kate' in a place reserved for 'Beckett,' she let her fingers twine with his on the desk. "I knew her. I knew both of them."

"What?"

She tightened her hold on his fingers. "It's… complicated. Let me tell the entire story to all of you?"

He didn't look happy as he retracted his hand from hers as the boys got off the elevator from the basement; she needed the strength that she gained from standing alone in the precinct and he was willing to give her that for the moment. "You're okay though?"

"Not even close, Castle," she muttered before getting up again, the coffee mug held against her chest, spreading a comforting warmth across her skin through the fabric.

"What's this about, Beckett?" Esposito glanced from Kate to Castle to the whiteboard. "Haven't found anything about Wheeler yet. Waiting on a warrant for financials but you know how hard it is to get a judge to stop for even a minute to sign a piece of paper."

Castle watched her take a deep breath, turn her eyes to the ceiling, then back to the boys. Her boys.

"Something came up with the case, guys," she started, twisting the cap of the dry erase marker in her hands. Nervous habit that he hadn't seen in a long while. "I got a call from Captain Turner in Narcotics out of the Twenty-Seventh Precinct this morning. One of his detectives, an Alyssa Enright, was found dead outside of the station."

Esposito said, "You know North covers the Two-Seven, right, Beckett?"

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. "I know. Thing is, I've worked with both Wheeler and Enright."

"And you didn't say anything when we caught Wheeler?" Ryan asked even as Esposito shouted "What?"

"I didn't remember the case until this morning when Captain Turner pointed it out. It was eleven years ago, I was still a uniform." She tossed the marker into the well at the bottom of the whiteboard. "And it wasn't just the three of us. It was a task force with almost twenty of us working together."

Esposito propped his hip against her desk, nodding toward the board. "That all we have?"

"We'll get the M.E. report as soon as the exam is done. I'm going to pull up the case file from the task force. We'll need to contact the officers on the list and tell them about the situation. And narrow down the list of targets to people who are out of jail on parole. Got a preference?"

Both were mind-numbing jobs. Staring at case files or staring at prison files. Not exactly a winning situation either way but whichever they wanted, they could have. Ryan and Esposito looked at one another then shrugged.

"Give us the officers. You'll know the targets from the case, know which ones were the most dangerous," said Esposito.

"Thanks, guys," Kate said, going back to her desk.

Ryan shook his head as he shrugged. "We'll get him, Beckett."

Castle watched, leaning on his elbows, as Kate typed in the dates to find the case file from the task force operation. "We're you Homicide back then?"

"Yeah. Spent half a month in Vice right out of the Academy and hated it. My T.O. transferred me out as soon as he could."

"And you landed with Royce." Her eyes tightened at the mention of her friend; the hurt lingered even years later. So he moved on, pointing to the computer screen. "What was the task force about?"

"There was a pretty dangerous gang running around most of New York," she said, clicking to attach the case file to an e-mail to both Ryan and Esposito, sending it. "They operated by word-of-mouth. No name, no colors, no signs. Harder to pin down. It took about three months to find a base of operations for their drug organization." She took a sip of the coffee that she had forgotten about, smiling around the lip of the cup. "Mostly they dealt in drugs but there were a few bodies with their names on them."

"Which explains your involvement in the case," Castle pointed out.

She nodded. "There were a few of us from Homicide, from precincts across the city because these guys had run of the entire island. We had people from the gang unit that were mostly running the task force. Some from Narcotics, Organized Crime, Special Victims. Pretty much a mix of the entire department."

The screen was covered with names. She scrolled through them, sighing. It hadn't seemed like there were this many in the gang when she was a uniform those years ago. At the time, they'd divided up the busts on the group and she had never really gotten a hold on just how large the organization was.

"Castle, this could take a long time," she said, shooting him an apologetic glance. "Like, a really long time. You sure you want to sit around for this?" The gesture toward the computer was stopped as he grabbed her hand.

"Don't ask stupid questions, Beckett," he reminded her with a raised brow. "You know where I stand."

Partners.

The word hung in the air between them, not required to be spoken in order for the two of them to understand what it meant.

She picked up her coffee in one hand, a pen in the other. He grabbed a blank legal pad and handed it to her. Time to start figuring out who was still alive on the list.

* * *

><p>After two hours of writing out names, Kate's hand had cramped up and Castle had insisted on taking over the job of scribe. Kate was reading off the full names of the gang members still alive after eleven years and Castle was adding them to the extensive list.<p>

"Didn't know it was going to be this long," she muttered, resting her forehead on her palm. Briefly, she rubbed the heel of her hand into her eye, then let it hold up her cheek. "Sorry, Castle."

He put the pen on the legal pad, tucked up against the creased paper at the top; they'd filled up a sheet and a half so far. Behind the barrier of her desk, he gave her thigh a squeeze. "Don't apologize. For Wheeler and Enright, anything. They'd do the same for you."

Castle's hand sprung away when Gates's office door opened.

"Beckett. Update?"

Kate got up, brushing her hair back behind an ear. She wasn't using her height to try and gain back some of the control she was losing over this case. Happy coincidence that her heels put her a few inches above Gates's head. "Wading through prison records of the gang members that the task force busted. Ryan and Esposito are working on finding the officers from the task force and telling them the situation. Still waiting to hear from the M.E. but they're swamped this time of year."

Gates crossed her arms, her glasses balanced in one hand. "Even with the rush because it's an NYPD officer?"

"Dr. Parish says they're moving as fast as possible with Enright," Kate said with a shrug. "I can call and pester some more if you think it'd help."

"Don't bother. Let them get their job done. We'll keep working our angle from here. Keep me apprised, Detective. Captain Turner wants constant updates from our end."

The door shuddered when the captain closed it behind her. Kate sighed and glanced at the board. "She's right, you know." When Castle only blinked, she threw an arm out at the information on the whiteboard. "We don't have enough to nail down anyone and we need the M.E. report."

Castle stood, taking her keys off her desk where she had tossed them that morning. "Let's go."

"What?"

He looped his arm though hers, tugging her toward the elevator. "We're gonna go see Lanie and sit there and wait while she gets us a COD on Enright. Then we'll get lunch before we come back and see what Esposito and Ryan have dug up from the other officers on the task force. We'll start crossing people off on our list who are still in prison." He hit the button for the elevator, surprised when it was waiting.

"Castle, just… hold up for a second," Kate started as he gave her a nudge into the elevator car. "We need to finish going over the prison records. Lanie'll call when she has something."

"Yes, but we're going to go visit." Castle took her hand in both of his, transferring the keys to her palm while letting his fingers linger on her wrists. "Getting out of the precinct will be a good break for both of us."

Their eyes met and for a moment, Castle wasn't sure that she was going to let him herd her out into public, away from the case. That hard edge was visible in her hazel eyes even as her hands turned over and she linked her fingers with his. Such an enigma, even after all these years. A mystery he had yet to completely solve.

But then the doors open and she stepped out first, leading him by the hand. "Short lunch, though."

"If you say so."

* * *

><p>Every table in the autopsy suite was taken and Kate had a feeling that the same went for the refrigerated storage that lined the wall. Summer made people go crazy and that often lead to people doing completely irrational and stupid things. Things like murdering one another.<p>

Lanie was wielding a scalpel in one hand, a plastic shield over her face as she eyed the body on the table in front of her. "Working on it, you two."

"How'd you know it was us?" Castle asked, a little disappointed at his ability to sneak around.

The woman turned around, waving the instrument at him. "You walk like an elephant sometimes. And I could hear Beckett's heels from down the hall." That had Castle glaring at Kate who glared right back at him. "Anyway, I don't have much yet for you. You can see we're booked solid."

"I know," Kate said. Lanie narrowed her eyes behind the plastic and Kate held her hands up defensively. "I know. But Gates and Turner want updates and I need something to give them. Anything."

Lanie put the scalpel on the metal tray over the body with a click, took the shield off as she walked over to grab a file from the cabinet in the corner. "Detective Enright overdosed."

"Not possible," Kate muttered even as Lanie handed her the file. "On what?"

"Heroin. Lots and lots of heroin."

Castle peered over Kate's shoulder at the report. "I'll say. Could put down a horse with that much."

"No." Both of them looked at Kate when she spoke, shaking her head. "No, Enright wouldn't. Narcotics detectives are trained to get around using drugs while on the job. She wouldn't have taken enough of anything to overdose."

"What can I tell ya, sweetie?" Lanie asked, bracing a hand on the metal table next to a man's unmoving head. "I ran the tests three times. It was a heroin overdose."

"Doesn't make sense," Kate said, turning to face Castle. "Why would the guy drown Wheeler but use drugs to take out Enright?"

Sensing a theory session, Lanie moved back to her first table, grabbing the scalpel. Better to let the two of them finish one another's sentence and share loaded glances and get excited when their brainwaves lined up like they always did.

But the bits of theory that usually rose in volume as it gained speed never came. Instead, Lanie heard Kate thank her for the bit of information, Castle muttered something about not walking like an elephant, then the door to the suite closed.

"Weird," she told the body on the table in front of her, pointing the tip of the scalpel at the dead man's nose. "Those two are weird."

Kate had jammed her hands in her pockets, then pulled them back out, twisting them together. Hard enough to think on a normal day in the summer when the heat bogged everything down with the humidity that settled over the city. Add in the two fellow officers she now had sitting on her shoulders and everything in her brain had slowed to a crawl.

Castle didn't seem affected by the heat, still rambling off ideas about the change in M.O. that ranged from normal to supernatural as they got into the car.

She was thankful for the old cloth seats in the Crown Vic; leather would have scalded any skin bared by clothing on contact while the worn and holey charcoal fabric was only warm. The steering wheel was another story. She touched the edge, quickly drew her hand away when the scarred leather burned her palm.

"What if the guy is performing the murders based on their unit?"

Kate had been about to shoot down yet another alien prediction when the rationality of this current theory worked through her brain. "That… That could actually make sense." She took another chance at touching the wheel. Still hot but they needed to get lunch so she clenched her teeth as her skin made contact with the leather, turning the key to get the car's air conditioning going.

"Yeah, I mean. Wheeler was on the gang task force. What if the gang killed some of their enemies by drowning them." Castle reached over to fiddle with the fans and vents, angling them to hit Kate on the neck before playing with his own. "Not necessarily via bathtub, but drowning in general."

"The gang did traffic and sell drugs," Kate mused, starting back toward the precinct. Remy's was on the way; they could get the burgers to go and bring food back to the boys. "Could be that the person is trying to send a message."

He sat forward on the seat, as far as the seatbelt would let him, twisting to face her. "So we know how he's killing the victims. But how is he picking them? I mean, you said there were a lot of you on the task force, right?"

Kate shrugged one shoulder. "Enough. Getting the information from Ryan and Esposito will help. I'm sure some of those officers have put their papers in or..." Died since the task force. "Remy's work for you?"

"Yeah."

"And Castle?" He looked over, found her eyes still on the road in front of them rather than toward him. "Can we talk about something other than the case at lunch? Just need a break from the case for thirty minutes."

Castle stole her right hand from off the steering wheel, brought the heated palm to his lips. "Of course. Anything. Like maybe how even though Mother is away doing summer stock, her theatre class still insists on using the loft as a practice space this evening?"

"Seriously?" Kate exclaimed, tugging her hand back so she could turn a corner. "Well there goes my plan of ravishing you in the kitchen…"

He narrowed his eyes at her as she grinned. "You're a tease."

Kate made sure the car was in park a few feet from Remy's before she braced a hand on the center console to press a hot kiss to his lips. "You love it."

"I'm telling those acting students to get the hell out of my place," he muttered, getting out onto the sidewalk. "And I'm holding you to that promise, Kate."

She hummed through a close-lipped smile, hooking a finger through the belt loop of his jeans. "We'll see…"


	6. Chapter 6

_**One of Our Own**_

* * *

><p>"Stop."<p>

"But…"

"Seriously, Castle. Stop or I'll cut your fingers off."

He sat back in the passenger seat, crossing his arms and pouting. "You're no fun. Not even after I've fed you and helped break a case."

Kate reached over and pulled the bag of fries from his lap, folding the top over and putting it on the floor behind her with the paper bag holding burgers for Ryan and Esposito. "Yes, well, I'm sure the boys would do crueler things to you than cut your fingers off if they found out you ate all of their French fries on the ride from Remy's to the precinct." She saw his eyes drift toward the backseat again. "Stop thinking about it, Richard Castle."

"But, Beckett…"

She slapped his hand as he reached back. "Hey! Stop!"

Castle cradled his hand against his chest, glaring. "They wouldn't miss a few more fries. Besides, you know what I can do with my fingers," he said, wiggling the digits at her, eyes dancing when her mouth fell open. "I meant my writing, of course. Whatever were you thinking of, Kate?"

Kate shoved him without taking her eyes off of the road. "You're impossible. You can completely forget anything other than dinner and sleep when we get home."

"Well, we do sleep together, if you recall," he mused, looking out of his window at the sideview mirror.

"Might be changing that status quo."

This time, it was his mouth dropping open as she tried to hide a smile by pulling her lower lip between her teeth.

* * *

><p>Castle was still glaring at her as he followed her off the elevator. She hadn't let him carry the food from the car to the bullpen, snagging the bags from his hands when he had grabbed them from the backseat. She also hadn't taken back the comment about kicking him to the couch for the night. He wasn't sure which one concerned him more, though he was pretty sure the latter one should gain the most thought. Part of him wanted to insist that it was his apartment and therefore his bed and if anyone would be sleeping on the couch, it would be her. But he also knew that she could take him out in a blink of an eye and he'd wake up on the couch if that happened.<p>

"Boys," she called out, breaking him from his thoughts as he trailed her like a puppy to the bullpen. "Got anything?"

Ryan looked up, the phone held to his ear. He shrugged.

But Esposito crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. "What do you have for us?"

She held up the bags of food, waving them back and forth. "You first."

"Fine. But only because you're using food as a motivator," Esposito muttered. He handed her a folder, eyes locked on the bags resting against her thigh. "Those are the officers that were on the task force that are still alive. Not necessarily on the job or in New York City, but they're alive."

Kate flipped the cover open one-handedly, refusing to let go of her bargaining chip. The names looked vaguely familiar, niggling at the back of her brain from almost a dozen years ago. "Anything else or do Castle and I get to split your fries?"

Ryan jumped in. "We also took some of your stuff and started looking at some of the suspects from the task force. Finished doing some of the work you started, looking at who is still alive, who's out of jail, stuff like that."

"And?"

He glanced at Esposito. "Hand over the fries and I'll give you something in return."

Kate weighed out the options. Give the boys the bag of French fries and take their research or keep the food from them and have to go through the records again. On a sigh, she placed the bag of fries onto Esposito's desk. Ryan passed a legal pad to her, already digging into the bag.

"Anyone stand out to you?" she asked, scanning the pages that began with her handwriting and switched over to Ryan's blocky capitals. Next to each of the names, Ryan had written out where they were, what they had been convicted of, and whether they were alive or not.

She picked up a highlighter from Esposito's desk, propping her hip against the surface as Ryan spoke. "There were a few. Put stars next to their names," he said around a mouthful of French fries. Kate was dragging the bright blue highlighter over the names of suspects that were still alive, searching for those names with stars at their side. "Mostly murder and some of the other Part I offenses."

"You earned this." Kate set the last bag on the desk, moving away as they both grabbed for it at the same time. "Thanks, guys."

She tucked the legal pad with Ryan's research under her arm as she went to sit at her desk. She dragged a hand through her hair, tilting back in the chair and crossing her legs at the knee, the pad of paper balanced there. The blue highlighted names stood out now but none of them screamed that they were the one picking off officers.

"Read them off."

Kate looked up, found Castle standing next to the board with an Expo marker in one hand. "What?"

He pointed toward the legal pad with the capped marker. "The names we have left. Read them to me and I'll put them up."

She blinked and had to shake her head. "Uh. Yeah, okay."

The list was short, five men out on parole from the gang task force bust. All of them were living in the Tri-State area and had violent felony convictions extending further back beyond their gang days. All possible candidates.

Kate hid a yawn behind the legal pad but knew that Castle caught the movement. He also knew not to comment on it, sitting in his chair instead. "What's our next step?" he asked, tossing the marker against the keyboard and watching it promptly roll off the desk.

She bent over in the chair, picking up the marker and tossing it at Castle's chest. "More phone calls." When he rolled his eyes, Kate glared. "Listen, you can go back home and write or something if this bores you."

"You know what?" he said, getting up out of the chair. "I think I'll do just that." With a grin, he tapped the marker against Kate's nose. "I'll meet you at home. Not too late, darling."

She hated, *hated*, that nickname. And he knew that.

So the fact that he tripped and had to pinwheel his arms until he caught the edge of her desk, heart racing wasn't really a surprise.

"Something wrong, sweetheart?" Kate asked, not looking over at him, focusing on drawing mental connections between the suspects out on parole and the task force members still living.

Castle could see the smile tugging at the corner of her lips as he stared at the back of her head. "Nothing, love. Nothing at all."

Kate swiveled around in the chair, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. "Remember that sex you were planning on having with me ever again?"

"I'm going!" he shouted quickly, grabbing the coat off the back of the chair and running toward the elevator. "Bye!"

She shook her head, finally letting the smile spread over her face. She wasn't sorry for tripping him up – he knew she hated pet names and it was deserved – and she wasn't sorry for holding sex as a bargaining chip to get him out of the precinct. This case was special. Personal. And as much as she appreciated his insights, something more down-to-earth was the root cause of this.

"Detective Beckett?"

Kate turned from the board. The woman standing a few feet from her desk was dressed in jeans and a pink v-neck, cream scarf looped around her neck so the fringe hung at her waist. Feminine ballet flats, white with patent black leather at the toes, peeked out from the hem of the jeans. Blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail that reached her shoulders.

"Yes?" Kate responded, getting up to face the other woman.

She held out a hand. "Detective Phoebe Sheldon. Internal Affairs. I'm here about Officer Wheeler and Detective Enright." Without another word, Sheldon circled Kate's chair and went to stand in front of the murder board. "Fill me in, Detective."

Not here to make friends, Kate thought, grabbing up her legal pad and holding it to her chest, blocking the writing from the other detective. If Sheldon wasn't going to try and be civil, neither was Kate. "Two days ago, Officer Karen Wheeler was found drowned in a tub in a warehouse in Chelsea. She was identified on-scene by Detectives Ryan and Esposito. Later that day, Doctor Lanie Parish confirmed that Wheeler had been drowned. No drugs in her system."

"And how does that connect to Enright?" Sheldon asked, tilting her head to the side to study the board. As if it would answer the question for her. And it would, if she took the time to read the organized notes written up right in front of her.

"Well, we didn't get the connect to the gang task force until this morning when Captain Turner from the Two-Seven called me." Kate tried to edge around Sheldon but the woman refused to move. So she settled for standing at the side of the board, watching the other woman as she scanned the white board. "Enright was found dumped outside of their station. M.E. ruled the death as a fatal overdose on heroin."

"How do you know they were killed by the same person? And what gang task force?"

If you give me a minute, I'll explain, Kate growled, barely managing to keep the comment mental instead of verbal. After a deep breath, she tried a smile. "Eleven years ago, there was a gang task force to take down one of the largest gangs in the city. Both Wheeler and Enright served on it. As did I." Kate paused, waited for the inevitable comment. When it didn't come, she continued. "Detectives Ryan and Esposito figured out the list of people from the task force that were still alive and in New York City as possible targets. They also found the suspects from the gang who were alive and out on parole."

Sheldon finally turned toward Kate, arms crossed over her chest. "That's it?"

Kate tried to make sure her mouth didn't fall open too far. "Uh…"

"You've had this case for over three days, Detective. Where's the headway, the leads, the suspects?"

She was tired, frustrated, and, now, annoyed. Kate stepped in front of Sheldon. "Working on it when you interrupted, Detective Sheldon. We've narrowed down the suspects that could have murdered Wheeler and Enright to five men. I was about to run them for current addresses before dividing the canvassing up between myself and my team."

Sheldon didn't look convinced. "I expect an update tonight, Beckett." Then she swept into Gates's office, closing the door behind her.

Kate sat in her chair again, dropping the legal pad on the pile of files next to her keyboard. She ran a hand over her face, trying to push the migraine that was growing under her temple out but failing. Given enough time, it would grow into a massive pain and only falling into a deep and restful sleep would cure it. That, she thought, and maybe a huge glass of wine. Neither of which she'd get if Sheldon had anything to say about it.

Still, she opened up the search engine and typed in the first name on her list of felons out on parole. A glance toward Gates's office showed closed blinds and only the peek of light from between the slates. Probably a bonding session over time in Internal Affairs.

The door opened from the office and Sheldon followed Gates out. "Thank you, Captain."

"We'll keep you up-to-date, Detective." Gates walked with Sheldon toward the elevator. "I can assure you we have our best people on this case."

The elevator bell rang, Kate heard Gates say goodbye again, then the doors closed. Kate felt the breath she had been holding rush out.

"Beckett?" Gates called out, stopping by Kate's desk. "Got anywhere?"

Kate ran over the same details she had given Sheldon. Except instead of hostile questions, Kate merely got a kurt nod. "Good work. Pick it up again tomorrow. We'll work with IAB but they're not calling the shots; I am."

"Thank you, sir."

As soon as Gates disappeared in her office again, Kate closed down her computer and brought her mug to the break room, running it under the hot water to rinse it out, setting it upside-down on a dish towel to dry overnight. Then she gathered up her keys and headed for the elevator.

* * *

><p>The scent of steak and potatoes hit her nose as soon as she unlocked the door of the apartment. Kate nearly fainted against the front hall. "Oh God, Castle…"<p>

He appeared around the pillar holding a pair of tongs. "Dinner'll be ready in… What's wrong?"

Kate kicked her shoes off, not bothering to watch where they skittered off to. "Is it too wide a range to say 'life'?" She padded into the kitchen, collapsing onto one of the bar stools and letting her head fall onto her arms. "That smells heavenly."

The tongs were set down on the counter as he tilted his head enough that they were at eye level. "What happened?"

"Detective Phoebe Sheldon from Internal Affairs happened," she sighed. "Don't wanna talk about it."

As if to prove that she didn't care about Sheldon's intrusion, Kate pushed forward to press her lips to Castle's. She felt his groan as a soft vibration against her mouth, leaning across the granite countertop to change the angle of the kiss. He broke off, his forehead against hers.

"Kate…"

She slid off the stool, circling the breakfast bar to back him up against the counter. "Please, Castle. Not now." Up on her toes, she hook her arms around his neck.

"I made us dinner," he managed between kisses down her jaw to her throat.

"Later."

If she insisted. He let his hands trail down her sides, gripped her hips, and lifted her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. As much as he enjoyed Kitchen Sex, she needed soft and gentle and loving, not the fast and hard that came with their current location. So instead of spinning her around and pressing her lower back against the warm granite, he walked them toward the bedroom. He met her peppering of kisses with his own, nipping lightly on her neck, not hard enough to leave a mark.

When Castle tossed her onto the bed, the burst of laughter that escaped her lightened his heart. "Love you, Kate," he murmured into her hair as he crawled up her body, fingers skimming over her cheek.

Kate twisted the neckline of his t-shirt in her hand. "Love you, too, Castle."


	7. Chapter 7

_**One of Our Own**_

* * *

><p>She had her face stuffed into one of the pillows, only a single ear visible between the pillowcase and the curtain of her hair. Castle wasn't sure if she was sleeping or trying to gather up whatever strength she had left after Round Two. He rolled over onto his chest, reaching his hand out to trail his fingertips over the curve of her spine until it disappeared under the sheets.<p>

"Hmmm?" she hummed, most of the sound lost in the pillow since she didn't shift her head to be heard.

"Ready for dinner now?"

This time Kate did turn her head, eyes still closed. "I guess." She inched her hand out from under the covers to let it rest against his cheek.

He captured her hand against his face. "You promise not to jump me again?"

Kate swung her legs out of the bed. "No promises," she said, heading for the bathroom. "Shower, then dinner."

Castle scrambled out of the bed, following her into the bathroom. "Can I help you get clean?"

"No." He looked sad when she twisted the hot water on. "I'm well aware of what you're idea of 'getting clean' is and I just want a shower."

The tile was warm when he gave her a gentle shove against it, capturing her lips with his as he held her against the wall. "Give me two minutes and I'll convince you that my version of 'getting clean' is the best version."

Kate pushed him away, grabbing for her shampoo. "Either take your own shower or go away and warm up dinner for us."

"You are so demanding, woman," he muttered, letting his soapy fingers trail over her waist.

"Didn't seem to mind that a few minutes ago, did you?" Kate teased, washing the extra shampoo bubbles off her hands before reaching around him for her razor.

"Keep saying things like that and I'll have no choice but to-" He was cut off when she made a grab for his ear. "Later then."

They dressed in pajamas after the shower, which had included Round Three, no plans to leave the chilly apartment for the night. With her hair tied up in a messy bun, Kate sat at the bar as she watched Castle re-heat the steak and baked potatoes he had made before she had shown up. The days of minimal sleep were catching up with her as she rested her head on her folded arms, ignoring the drops of water from her hair that trickled down her back and shoulders.

"Going to bed early tonight," he said, sliding the plate of food in front of her, nudging the fork and knife closer. "We both need the rest." Castle sat next to her, his hip pressed against hers.

"Deal," Kate responded, cutting into the baked potato and dragging the piece through the small pool of butter under it.

They watched a movie, something mindless that allowed them to spend more time curled up with one another than paying attention to the plot, before falling off into sleep with the TV screen still on the main menu after finishing the movie. Despite the warring air conditioning and heat from outside, Kate tucked herself as close as possible to Castle, letting him loop his arm over her shoulders as she buried her face into his chest. He anchored her against the dreams he knew would be teasing at the edge of her conscience after the mental exhaustion of the past three days. Her fingers were curled around the neckline of his t-shirt, holding her there with him.

* * *

><p>She could hear the ringing of her phone from the living room.<p>

"Don't answer it," he groaned, hugging her closer and trapping her arms between their bodies. "Voicemail."

Normally, Kate would agree, let the phone kick the caller over to her voicemail, and drift back into sleep for another few hours. But not now, not with this case. "Can't, Castle," she said, pulling away from him and untangling their legs before she jogged out of the bedroom to get the phone. She answered it just before it stops ringing, a minor miracle, but she immediately wished she had let it go.

"Beckett?"

"Yeah," she muttered, running a hand through her hair as she walked back into the office to sit in Castle's desk chair, pulling her legs up against her chest. "What's up?"

"There's another victim," Esposito said, sounding just as tired as she felt. "A Lieutenant Rachel Miller from the One-Five."

"Shit." Kate got up from the chair, leaving it spinning behind her as she ran into the bedroom and straight into a sleep-rumpled Castle. He caught her upper arms, steadied her as she shook her head. "Shit, shit, shit." Kate fumbled to put the phone on speaker, tossing it onto the bed as she scrambled to find clothes. "Am I meeting you guys at the One-Five or at the Twelfth?"

Castle took the cue to get dressed as well, tugging the t-shirt off and finding a clean button down from the closet as Kate pulled on a pair of jeans.

Esposito's voice was crackly as he spoke. "Neither. Beth Israel on West 57th."

Kate breathed out in relief. "She's alive?" Her eyes meet Castle's as she buttoned up her own shirt.

"Barely, but yeah."

She promised that she'd be at the emergency room as soon as possible and hung up on her co-worker. "Thank God," she sighed, ducking into the bathroom to brush her teeth and pull her hair up into a mess of a bun.

On the ride from SoHo to the hospital in Midtown, Kate tried to figure out which one of the task force members was Rachel Miller. She vaguely remembered the name from their list of members still alive from the research but features, personality, current division escape her. So instead of narrowing down the person, Kate ran through the possible units housed in the 15th Precinct. Another homicide unit for the Upper West Side, an anti-crime squad that used taxi cabs to catch crimes before they got too far, maybe a harbor unit since they were near the piers along the Hudson River.

She parked in the same area as the ambulance bay and Castle remembered to toss the laminated NYPD parking plate onto the dashboard as Kate started toward the automatic doors. Kate already had her badge in her hand, tipping it toward the nurse sitting behind the desk. "Detective Beckett looking for Lieutenant Miller."

"Over here, Beckett," called Ryan from down the hall. He brought them down the corridor until they were out of earshot of the room.

"She's still alive?" Kate asked, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she leaned against the wall.

He nodded, still speaking quietly. "Stable, physically, at least." When Kate only raised a brow, Ryan continued. "She was raped. Repeatedly."

Castle pushed off of the wall with a muttered "Dear God" as Kate bit down on her knuckle, hitting her head against the surface behind her.

"Yeah. It's not good but she's breathing." Ryan turned when Esposito came around the corner, running his hand over his head. "The SANE is in the room with her right now but she wants to talk to you when she's done."

"SANE?" Castle asked, pacing back toward the small group.

Kate nodded. "Sexual assault nurse examiner. Standard procedure to have one in the room during the examination."

"Detectives?" Three of the four spun to face the nurse that was at the corner of the hallway. "Rachel's asking for a Beckett?"

"Got it," she said, starting after the nurse until Castle snagged her wrist, following her. "Castle, not this time. Just… Sorry, it's a cop thing."

"Wait, Beckett!" called Esposito. "We'll head back to the Twelfth and start figuring out the next step."

"Good. Good, yeah. Castle," she said, drawing his eyes up to her. "Go with them." Before he could protest, Kate held up a hand. "It'll help. It'll be your best move right now."

He sighed but nodded, staying back with the boys as the nurse led her to one of the rooms they had passed earlier, pushing the door open. The woman sitting on the table looked nothing like any of the women from the task force. Ten years and current events obviously had changed Miller.

She had short brown hair that curled wildly around her face, reminding Kate of how her own hair dried without the aid of a hair dryer. Miller looked up when Kate stepped into the room and twin pairs of hazel eyes met across the distance. The other cop's voice is strong even as her hands shake. "Thanks for coming, Beckett."

"Of course," Kate said, picking up the extra chair in the room rather than dragging it; experience said loud noises when someone was already on edge weren't the best idea. She also knew better than to ask the obvious question of 'are you okay?' since nothing was okay right now. "What can I do for you, Lieutenant?"

"You're lead on Wheeler and Enright's cases, right?" When Kate nodded, Miller swallowed. "I want you on my case too."

"Okay," replied Kate, getting up to search for a piece of paper and a pen. The SANE passed her the items along with a clipboard from where she sat at the desk in the corner. "Start from wherever you can remember, Lieutenant."


	8. Chapter 8

_**One of Our Own**_

* * *

><p>When Kate showed up at the Twelfth an hour later, the white board was cleaned up. She had a tray of coffees in one hand, her blazer looped over the arm of the other. What she really wanted to do was go home and hide under the covers, to do something light-hearted and fun and find a way to not think about Miller or this case. Not possible right now.<p>

"You found something?" she asked, rounding the corner to set the coffees on her desk. None of the boys were in the bullpen but she could hear the rumblings of voices from the conference room.

Castle's head appeared in the doorway. "Hey. We got something big." He waved a hand to get her to join them then he spotted the expression on her face. "What's wrong, Beckett?" Castle closed the door to the conference room, moving to her side and letting his fingers brush hers.

"Nothing," she said quickly, without thinking. She pulled her hand away from his, taking one of the coffee cups from the tray and wrapping her fingers around that instead. "Nothing."

"Kate…" he sighed, chasing her wrist to give it a tug toward the break room. "Come on. Talk to me."

She leaned the small of her back against the counter, holding the coffee against the skin revealed by the v-neck of her t-shirt. Too hot for coffee but she needed the comfort that she could draw from the warm drink. "It's just… It's hard." Before he could comment, she continued. "I mean, duh, but it was easier with Wheeler and Enright. As cold as it sounds, they're dead. But Miller's still breathing, still able to feel."

Kate let him break one of the precinct rules and allowed Castle to pull her into his embrace, tucking her head against his shoulder. "When this is over, we're going on vacation," he murmured. "Far away. With beaches and margaritas and lots of sex."

"Castle," she warned without moving.

"No, Kate. Let me take you away. You've got vacations days piled higher than my head. Use some of them. We don't even need to include the margaritas," he added with a wiggle of his brow.

She could tell he wasn't going to give up. Instead of fighting over a week on the beach with him, she nodded. "Fine. As soon as this is over."

"Thanks," he said quietly. "Now you want to see what we got while you were talking with Miller?"

Ryan and Esposito met them at the whiteboard holding a stack of files. "You brought us coffee," said Ryan, tipping the iced coffee in her direction. "Thanks, boss."

"Give me something in return for it," she said, sitting back at her desk.

Esposito passed over two files from the top of the pile. "We've got it down to two men out on parole that are in driving distance of the city. Lee Albert and Henry Stevens." As Kate flipped the cover of the first file open, scanning the information about Albert even as Esposito rattled off the bullet points. "Albert was the enforcer for the gang back in the day. Real badass and fits the M.O. right now."

"Then there's Stevens. He's a little trickier," interjected Ryan. "He wasn't high up in the organization at the time. In fact, it appears like he was just getting started in the group when your task force cracked them apart."

"And where are they now?" she asked, looking over Stevens's file when Castle took Albert's.

"In the interrogation rooms waiting for us," replied Ryan.

"Perfect." Kate got up, taking the file from Castle's hand and giving Esposito the folder. "You guys take Lee Albert. I'll work on Henry Stevens." When Castle stood up with her, she pushed on his shoulder so he plopped back into the chair. "Stay here, Castle."

"But…"

"No. The closest you can get is the observation room." She tucked the file for Stevens into the crook of her arm. "You want to be helpful? Go through the list of officers still alive from the task force and find any of the women. This guy is targeting females. If we can find the ones who are still around, we can warn them to be on the lookout." Castle's face fell but Kate reached out to squeeze his arm. "It'll help, Castle. Plus, you can sit in my chair."

That seemed to cheer him up as he switched chairs. "Promise not to play with the height on this puppy," he said. He caught her wrist as she turned to head back toward the interrogation rooms. "Be safe, Kate."

"It'll be fine."

She didn't glance back at Castle as she swung into the interrogation room housing Henry Stevens. The man at the banged-up metal table was good looking, considering his prison time. Blonde hair was swept back from his forehead in a manner reminiscent of a movie star, a lock hanging right about his bright blue eyes. He was big, all muscle under his red polo shirt.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Stevens," she started, sitting across from the man, the file closed in front of her. "Do you know why you're here?"

He growled. "No idea."

"Let's see if we can fix that." Kate clicked the pen on and found a blank page on her legal pad. "Where were you last night?"

"None of your business, woman," he snarled, crossing his arms over his chest, making the muscles bunch.

She leaned her forearms on the table, bringing her face closer to Stevens's. "Except it is my business, Henry. So make it easy. Just tell me where you were."

They stared at one another. Stevens narrowed his eyes but Kate refused to blink, to look away. She could hear the man's feet scuffing against the tile floor but even that sounded violent and unforgiving.

Finally, he gave in, sitting back arrogantly. "My favorite bar. I'm a regular since I got out of prison. Go ahead and ask around."

Kate wrote the name of the bar down on the legal pad with a question mark next to it. "So, Henry. You remember that gang you were involved in ten years ago?"

"You mean the one you and those other bitches shut down and sent all us to the joint?" asked Stevens on a humorless laugh. "Yeah. I remember. What's it got to do with anything?"

"Well, Mr. Stevens," she said, flipping open the file and taking out the photos from Wheeler and Enright's crime scenes. "Both Officer Wheeler and Detective Enright were murdered over the past three days. They both had connections to the task force that was put together to take down that gang of yours."

"Bitches got what they deserved," he said with a shrug. "All those cops should be killed."

Kate tried not to grin. The guy was writing his own confession and he had no idea. "Why don't you hang out here while I call up your bar."

"Sounds good, hottie." Stevens winked at her as she got up and left.

Once she was out of the room, Kate wanted to take a hot shower in the attempt to wash the creepiness of Henry Stevens off her skin. The man oozed Hollywood with his blonde hair and blue eyes, his toned body but as soon as he opened his mouth, Kate could see him as the gang member she helped put away those years ago. She poked her head into the observation room of the other interrogation room and found it empty.

The boys were all gathered in front of the murder board. Someone, she assumed Castle, had dragged over a second white board and snugged it up against the first. Except this one was not filled with the faces of the deceased or crime scene pictures or the information they had found over the past few days. This second board had Castle's familiar scrawl outlining the things he had culled out during the interrogations.

"You break Lee?" she asked, drawing their attention away from the board.

"Nope," said Ryan. "But Castle's found something."

She glanced at the board, edging in between the men. "Did he?"

Castle was grinning, nodding quickly. "Yeah! Look." He stepped back, giving her a better view of the second board. "You were right. All female victims so far so it should hold that he continues to target females. But there's something else going on." Castle gestured toward the first three victims. "He's murdering, or trying to murder, people based on the division they were in back during the task force days."

As Kate looked at the connections that Castle had made, it came together.

"There's Wheeler," he started.

"She was in the gang unit," Kate added, perching on the edge of her desk, crossing her legs in front of her. "The gang was infamous for drowning their victims, though not usually in a bathtub."

"And Detective Enright was in the Narcotics division. Which would explain her fatal overdose," continued Castle.

"Lieutenant Miller worked in Special Victims." Kate nodded, more to herself than to the others. "Okay, so what's this?" she asked, pointing toward the second board.

The photos there vaguely familiar. Each of the four pictures had a name, division, and precinct number under it. Hers was up there which just felt weird. The murderboard was reserved for victims and for suspects and for witnesses. Not for her picture. Kate pushed the discomfort down.

"Those are the female police officers still alive along with their divisions at the time of the task force and their current precinct assignments. If this guy follows his old motive, he's gonna kill the next person based on one of these divisions."

Kate sighed. "Ryan, Esposito? Can you check Stevens's alibi for last night? He says he was at this bar but it feels shaky to me." She hands off the name of the bar with a quick 'thanks' before nibbling her lower lip between her teeth, studying the board. "So you think we should call up each of these officers and what? Tell them to hide in their bedrooms and not let anyone into their apartment?"

"Maybe. Maybe that's the only way to protect them," Castle said.

She pushed off from the desk, pulling down the photos of Albert and Stevens. "Not gonna happen with me, Castle. I'm going back to the hospital to see if Miller can make an ID. She might have seen the man while he was sexually assaulting her." She pointed a finger at Castle as he started to follow and for the second time in the afternoon, she smiled an apology. "She's still not completely trusting of men. Not even your vast arsenal of charm will get Miller to be comfortable with you in the room. Nothing against you."

"I'll talk to the other officers. Let them know about the guy targeting them." It came out as a question more than a statement.

"Thanks," she said, slipping her badge and phone into her pocket. "Call me if you guys find anything, okay?"

* * *

><p>Kate pocketed her badge in her blazer as she stepped out of the emergency room intake doors. She missed the air conditioning already as the humidity settled onto her shoulders. There was a text from Ryan letting her know that Stevens's alibi checked out and that they had let the man go. Albert, too, had been covered by a group of friends and family who had confirmed that the man was at a reunion for the entire night and into the morning. Back to square one.<p>

There was a flash of movement in the corner of her eye before the prick of pain spreads from the side of her neck down to her chest, a fire zipping down her veins.

"Careful there, miss," the man said, catching her under the arm to keep her on her feet as she tripped over the curb. "Don't want you to get hurt. Where's your car?"

It was wrong. Kate should be able to control her body, not need this stranger to help her across the parking lot. Her head was swimming, the bright spots on the cars reminded her too much of sniper scopes, making her heart race. "Stop…" Her tongue was thick. It was all wrong.

The man shook his head. "It's okay, Beckett. Just going for a quick ride." He opened the back door of a white sedan and gave Kate a shove onto the leather seats. "Sit tight and it'll be over before you know it."


	9. Chapter 9

_**One of Our Own**_

* * *

><p>He dropped her phone back onto the cradle, brow furrowed. He had been calling her from every line in the precinct for the past three hours. The boys had watched him run from desk to pay phone to desk back to his cell phone, dialing the same number over and over. Same results every single time. Straight to voicemail without ringing at all.<p>

"Seriously, guys," he sighed, dropping into her chair, her chair that he had messed with the height on just so that she'd glare at him when she retook the seat but then roll her eyes with a smile as soon as he turned away. "Why hasn't she called? Or answered?"

Esposito shrugged, swirling his coffee. "Maybe she's still at the hospital. They make you turn your phones off when you're there."

"Yeah, something about the cell service messing with the machines," added Ryan. "No big deal."

Oh, but it felt like a big deal. In three hours, how could she not have found a moment to duck out into the ambulance bay and see that she had dozens of missed calls and voicemails sitting on her phone? Castle ran his hand through his hair, leaning his elbow on her desk and pulling the pad of Post-Its over to the front of the keyboard, digging for that purple Sharpie pen that he knew she kept in the mug of ballpoints.

For ten minutes, Castle tried not to think about Beckett or the case. Instead, he doodled stick figures holding oversized guns and pitchforks and torches. The last battle between mankind and the zombie hordes that had taken over Earth. But when one of the humans took on the appearance of Kate, he dropped the pen onto the ink blotter as if an electrical shock had zipped up the writing instrument.

"This doesn't feel right." He let his head slump down onto his elbow so that it was next to the surface of the desk. "She'd have called or texted or something."

Ryan looked up from his computer screen. "Then go to the hospital and track her down."

Castle shook his head. "She'd shoot me and say I was worrying too much and then shoot me again."

"Then go home and stop pining for your girlfriend," said Esposito, shooting a rubber band at Castle and expertly hitting him in the head. "Tired of hearing you whine over there."

"Fine." Castle got up, pushing the Post-Its back into their spot, moved the purple pen to its companions in the old Stanford Law School mug next to Kate's monitor. But the niggling that things were just not right stuck with him as he brought his empty coffee mug into the break room to run under the water from the sink. The second interview with Miller wouldn't have taken long; Kate was just getting the woman to identify her attacker. Something like that couldn't take three hours.

"Ryan? Esposito?" The men glanced over at Castle, both of them ready to scold him for pushing the issue rather than just leaving. "We let both Lee Albert and Henry Stevens go after their interviews, right?"

"Right," Ryan trailed off.

"And we know one of them was the one that has done those things to the other officers."

Esposito narrowed his eyes, nodding. "Yes. Just need to find something to nail one of them. Which is why Beckett is at that hospital, talking to our single living victim."

"Yes, but," Castle said, pacing back toward their desks with the mug still in his hands, "what if whichever one that did these things followed Beckett to the hospital?" When both of the men started to shake their heads, Castle held his hands up. "Listen, she's one of the few female officers still alive from the task force that are still in New York. What if he's going after her next?"

Esposito spun back to face his computer. "Shit. Ryan, see if you can find where Stevens went. I'll find Albert."

Castle dropped the mug back on Kate's desk, right next to the homemade one he had given her, the one that she still hadn't cleaned since the beginning of the case. He ran over to the space between the other desks, purposefully ignoring the whiteboard with the names and faces still up there. Kate's face still there. "Found them?"

"Got home addresses for them, their family's addresses, old haunts." Ryan scribbled down the locations on a scrap piece of paper, tucking it into his pocket. "We'll check them out."

"You're not coming," Esposito added, pointing a finger at Castle. "Stay here. If she shows up and no one's here, she'll be the one confused and panicked. Tell her we're out getting dinner or something."

Castle watched the two head for the elevator before moving back to Kate' desk. Not even the fact that the chair was at his height rather than hers could cheer him up. What he wanted was for her to show up, scream at him for playing with her chair when she has told him at least a million times not to, ask him why she didn't have hot coffee waiting for her, and then soften the glare as he runs to get her some form the break room – he knows she does it, that warm smile that follows him when she thinks he's not looking but he totally is.

He just wanted her here.

* * *

><p>For a moment, she was sure that she was back at home. The surface under her was soft and her head was definitely supported by the arm of a couch. If there hadn't been the ache throbbing from her neck all the way to her knees, Kate could have convinced herself that she had just fallen asleep while reading on her own sofa.<p>

But the left side of her neck had a slight burn to it that spread up to her jaw and down along her collarbone. And her shoulders hurt. She cracked her eyes open, closing them as soon as the light hit them. Too bright.

"Awake, my dear?"

Shit. Kate steadied her breathing again, hoping the man wouldn't notice the change. No such luck, she noticed, as a foot connected with her stomach. The movement made her curl into herself. As much as she could, at least, as she found her hands trapped behind her body.

"Ah, yes. I see we are," came the voice, closer to her as his breath washed over her face. "Open those pretty eyes, Kate. For me."

Her breath caught when the point of a knife settled at the base of her throat. She considered, briefly, ignoring the request and making a stand against the stranger. But with every second that she hesitated, the knife dug a little deeper.

"Okay, okay," she rasped out, opening her eyes slowly against the light that peeked around the man's face.

"So, you figured out my little plan," he sighed, removing the knife and stepping back around a large coffee table. "Took you long enough. I did think you were a little smarter than that, Detective Beckett. Honestly, thought most of you were smarter than that."

Kate watched Stevens walk around what appeared to be a living room. Unfamiliar. She tried to see out the window, catch a glimpse of the architecture of the surrounding buildings. Something to identify where she was. "Maybe your plan just wasn't that smart," she responded without thinking.

"No, Beckett," he growled, pointing the knife at her. "You're the stupid one. I left you every hint you needed. You just couldn't put them together fast enough." He laughed, waving the knife between his forefinger and thumb. "I mean, how much easier could I have made it? Because, really. Female cops that worked on that stupid, goddamn task force ten years ago? Duh. So just think about that, Katie. Everyone who died before you, they're on you." Stevens nudged her knee with his shoe. "Well, only for the next half hour or so, of course. Cause you should know what comes next."

He strolled into another room after placing the knife on the coffee table. Kate let out the breath she hadn't known had been trapped in her throat on something that sounded a little like a sob. She twisted her hands behind her back, feeling the metal of her own handcuffs cut into her wrists. Shit. Kate pushed the fear back down and focused. She couldn't feel the bump of her phone in her pocket which meant either Stevens took it or it was lost, broken somewhere in the… She scrunched her face, trying to get herself to remember what came before that prick of pain. Like the tiger all over again.

Except for one very important factor.

Castle.

He'd figure it out, Kate told herself. He's smart. He'd figure out that she wasn't still at the hospital and that something must have gone wrong.

God, she hoped he'd figure it out.

* * *

><p>When his cell phone rang, vibrating its way across her desk and hitting the keyboard, Castle jumped. He didn't bother checking the caller ID before answering it.<p>

"We've got Lee Albert," said Ryan. "At his mother's place since he left the precinct earlier."

Not exactly the voice he had been waiting for, but still. "And Stevens?"

"No sign of at any of his usual haunts. His friend did say that he had a second place that he might be hanging out at. Esposito and I are gonna head over there and see if he's crashing at this other apartment." The sound of a car door closing cut off the honk of horns and the shouts of pedestrians. "She hasn't shown up at the Twelfth yet?"

Castle shook his head, sighed, "No."

"She'll be fine, bro," he could hear Esposito shout into the mouthpiece before Ryan said goodbye and hung up.

* * *

><p>Kate schooled her features when she heard Stevens's boots moving from the neighboring room. Showing fear was not the way to stay alive.<p>

"Got any last words, Detective," he said. The man grabbed up the knife and paced over to sit on the coffee table in front of her. "Cause now's the moment." He paused, tilted his head to the side, and ran the edge of the knife down the side of her neck. "I really thought you'd catch me before I had to do this. Cause now? Now I've got to find another one of those bitches and do her in. Ah, well…"

"Why?" she asked around her teeth. Keep him talking. Keep the clock ticking. Give the boys time. They just needed time and they'd be here.

Stevens hesitated, pursed his lips. The flat of the knife tapped against his mouth as he mused over the unexpected question. "Because I hate you all? Nah, that's not a good enough answer and you deserve a good answer, Katie dear. How about," he started again, tipping the blade so that it trailed over her cheek lightly, "because you all ruined my life? I think that covers it nicely. Anything else?"

Just the wish that her partner, that someone would come through the door. She let out a quick breath and allowed her eyes to shut. It was okay, she thought. Castle knew she loves him. They had a real relationship, something beyond lingering looks over coffee at work. It was okay.

"No? Well then we're going on a little ride. Got an M.O. to keep up. We'll finish you up there." Stevens tucked the knife into his pocket. With surprising strength for his lithe body, the man hefted Kate up onto his shoulder, her head against his lower back as he looped his arm over her thighs to hold her in place. "Just stay still and you'll be fi –"

Kate twisted and was able to find the hilt of the knife in Stevens's pocket. Even with her hands bound behind her back, she got a firm grasp around the smooth handle and managed to get the tip into Stevens's side.

The man howled and dropped her onto the floor as he scrambled to get the knife from his side.

She felt pain run up her arm, made more intense from the already awkward angle it was at. This time she couldn't hold back the whimper that escapes as Stevens kicks at her hip.

"You bitch!" he shouted, kicking out again and connecting with her right arm, rekindling the shock of pain. He tossed the knife across the room where it clanged to the ground after hitting the wall. "Didn't want to do this but…"

Stevens ran from the room and she heard him rifling around, the clinking of glass. She needed to move, to get out of there before he came back. But she couldn't make her body push past the pain to do anything but curl in on itself. She can't even look up as Stevens comes back, his boot hitting her knee as he bent down to grip her hair, pulling her head to the side. The prick of a needle snicked her skin and the same lethargy from earlier settled over her.

She felt Stevens heft her back up in a fireman's carry. This time, though, Kate can't find the ability to fight. The cuffs pulled at her arms, the muscles lax from the sedative, as the man jogged down the stairs outside the apartment. Kate fought the heaviness of her eyes, looking for identifying markers of the lobby of the building. Dark wood paneling and a floor that could use a wash. No front desk. No one around to see Stevens run into the street and to a car that looked like her own Crown Vic.

Her arms protested as Stevens tossed her into the backseat, slamming the door on her legs until he realized his error and pushed the limbs into the car. She heard the engine start up, jarringly like it always did and how the people down at Maintenance insisted that it didn't.

Then everything dropped away into the darkness that had been teasing the edge of her vision.


	10. Chapter 10

_**One of Our Own**_

* * *

><p>Kate fought out from the dark haze, blinking slowly in the bright lights of the room. She clenched her teeth but couldn't hold back the groan that escaped her throat, the movement stinging something along her cheek. When her left hand - her right one didn't seem to want to move at all - searched for something to hold onto, she felt someone else's fingers wrap around hers lightly. As if they were afraid to touch her to hard or she'd shatter under the movement.<p>

"Hey, Kate," he whispered, his voice rough next to her ear. "You really awake this time?"

Her eyes fluttered shut, then back open. "Castle?" It felt like a dream. He wasn't here, couldn't be here.

He feathered his fingertips over her cheek, barely touching her. Just enough to prove her wrong. "Right here. I'm right here."

"My arm…"

"Broken, along with your wrist."

"Well shit."

He choked out a laugh. "Doesn't matter, Kate," Castle said, playing with the ends of her hair, a tangled brown mess over the pillow. He had tried to do something with it but failed, giving up and leaving it be. "Neither do the bruises and lacerations or any of it. You're alive."

"Was I not?" she asked, her eyes still closed against the light. But she could feel his presence next to her, his arm resting on her shoulder as he ran his fingers through her hair and that was enough. That was always enough.

"Nearly."

She took a shuddering breath, her hand tightening on his wrist. "Tell me."

"Kate, you don't need to do this right now…" But she shook her head, slowly, so he sighed. "He snatched you from outside the hospital after you went back to talk to Miller. Used a sedative to get you into your car." Castle kept touching her gently; her cheekbones, the curve of her shoulder, the little creases in the corner of her eyes, the hollow of where her throat and chest met. Like he needed the contact as much as she needed to know the truth. "He had an empty apartment he was using, somewhere in Harlem. It was the same place where he… you know, attacked Miller."

"She okay?"

"It changes daily. So yes and no." He took a deep breath, continued. "Uh, he… Stevens, he… Oh, Kate," he choked out on a sob, head falling down so that it rested on her waist.

She could feel the warmth of what had to be tears sinking through the thin fabric of the blanket into her hospital johnny. Her hand shook as she pulled it from under him, rested it on his head. Not sure what to do, how to comfort him when she was so barely stable herself, she just smoothed her fingertips over his scalp, twisting the ends of his hair in them.

"Hey. It's okay." It wasn't. Far from okay. But he needed to hear the words, even if the feeling wasn't behind it. "We got him though?"

He nodded against her stomach. "Maybe two hours ago."

"Good. Hey," she said, giving his hair a gentle tug. "Castle? It's good."

They were silent, the quiet beep of the heart monitor echoing off the walls of the room. Kate scratched her short nails over his head, waiting until he turned so their eyes met. His were still watery so she reached down and brushed her fingers under them. "Come up here?"

"You sure?" he asked, lifting his head up a fraction of an inch. Her arched brow screamed 'would I have asked if I wasn't sure?' so he waited until she shifted over to the far left of the bed and let him circle the end to stretch out next to her. He looped his arm over her shoulder, using his chest to support her slinged arm. Kate tilted her head so that it rested on his shoulder.

"Thanks for being here," she said quietly. "When I woke up."

"Where else would I be?" he responded. "The boys said they might stop by. They were interrogating Stevens while you were…"

"How'd you find me?" Kate interrupted his train of thought. "He hadn't broken my arm back at the apartment."

His breath stuttered but she felt him push through it. "God, Kate. He tossed you out of the car going fast. Too fast for the road outside the precinct. The desk sergeant saw and got someone to stop Stevens in your car. Which is kinda wrecked."

"My car got wrecked? Again?"

He laughed, roughly but there was the hint of a smile pulling at his lips. The second smile since she woke up. "Very wrecked. Worse than when we ended up in the Hudson with it. You'll need a new one, actually." She grinned when his eyes lit up. "A Batmobile! Kate, let's get a Batmobile with those cool doors that swing up and tons of cool gadgets and a really, really good security system."

"We're not getting a Batmobile, Castle. We'll take what the department gives us. Anyway," she prompted, tracing a pattern over the back of his hand that was resting on her stomach.

"Desk sergeant called 9-1-1 and got an ambulance there." He didn't add that the next call Peters had made was up to Kate's desk, knowing that Castle would answer it. He didn't want to think about how much she hadn't looked like Kate, lying there on the side of the road where he couldn't touch her for fear that it would be too much like the first time he had told her he loved her except this time she wouldn't come back to him. Instead, he had stood there, held back by a pair of burly uniforms, screaming at her to hold on. "Can we not talk about this? Just for now," he pleads, tilting his head to face her.

Kate turned her head up, moving her free hand from his to wipe her thumb over his cheekbone. "What do you want to talk about instead?"

"That cast is gonna suck on vacation. Strange tan lines," he murmured. "Where're we going, by the way?"

"Hawaii," she sighed. "I've never been."

"Such a typical honeymoon location. Are you hinting at something, Beckett?" he smiled at her ear.

"I don't know. Am I hinting at something?" Kate winced as she shifted enough to rest her cheek on his collarbone. "You've been following me around long enough. Figure it out, Detective Castle."

She watched as his brow pulled together, his teeth nibbling at his lower lip in a movement that he had to have picked up from her. His fingers danced over her elbow, just above the line of the purple cast. It's funny, seeing him work through meanings and subtext like it was a case. As if he could see the board in front of him, tacking up the pieces of information until they made sense.

"Katherine Beckett, did you just propose to me?" he asked, pulling his head back far enough to see her eyes.

"I don't know. Usually doesn't fall to the woman to do that. Typical male role," she mused.

"Marry me?"

Kate had to force herself not to smile. "Are you asking me for real or are you still trying to figure out if I already asked you?"

"The first one." He tugged on her hair lightly, corner of his lips turning up just a little. "Will you marry me, Kate?"

"Will you bring me coffee in the morning?" she asked seriously.

"Who do you think you're talking to? Besides, I've already asked you a few times," he said, shrugging the shoulder she wasn't still resting on. This time he got to savor the shock that flitted across her face. "Yeah. More than a few times, actually."

"Explain. Fast." Kate could feel a dose of drugs creeping into her body and she fought it off. Too much like the sedation from Stevens. This time, though, she was safe. His arm was around her, his heart beating steadily under her ear. It was okay.

"Your mug. The one I made you?" He waited for her to nod before continuing. "I might have written on it before I painted over it. Two pretty important words."

"You asked me to marry you on my mug?" she shouted, using her uninjured hand to slap his chest.

He grinned, leaned his head down to press a kiss to her scowling mouth. "You and me and coffee. It seemed right, at least until I had the courage to ask you to your face. Like a practice run."

"I might have written three words on that silly joke whiteboard years ago. Before I said them to your face," Kate said quietly against his lips. But she said them again, never tired of forming the words. "I love you."

"So marry me. Marry me, Kate."

Her eyes drifted shut, then opened again. Holding back the heaviness drifting into her body for another moment. "Yes, Castle. I'll marry you." She felt him kiss her, too tired to return the motion. "But you gotta bring me ta Hawaii."

"Of course. Wherever you want." His lips brushed over her eyes to her forehead. "Sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

She pushed her shoulder further into his body as she finally let her head loll against his chest. "Love ya."

"I know, Kate. I know."


End file.
